


The Nature of the Beast

by Brambleshadow_of_WindClan



Series: Undercover Lupine [1]
Category: 21 Jump Street
Genre: Alternate Universe - Werewolf, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-01
Updated: 2012-10-08
Packaged: 2017-10-24 05:59:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 29
Words: 44,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/259813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brambleshadow_of_WindClan/pseuds/Brambleshadow_of_WindClan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While working a case, Hanson is attacked by a teen 'wolf and involuntarily transforms. How will he keep it a secret from the rest of the team?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> 21 Jump Street © Stephen J. Cannell and Patrick Hasburgh, and Fox Network (1987-1991).
> 
> For the record, this was honestly just an idea that popped into my head after working on one of my NCIS fanfics, watching too many episodes of _21 Jump Street_ , and reading a _NCIS_ story on FF.net: The Wolf That Loved Movies by dracea5. 
> 
> This story takes place early Season 1 between "My Future's So Bright, I Gotta Wear Shades" and "Worst Night of Your Life", since Jenko is still around. In my little world, he never died, and besides, I like him better than Fuller. This is also wildly AU, since I have elements of the paranormal. And since Halloween is this month . . . (I started writing this on October 1, 2011.)
> 
> There are also several classic rock songs used.. Since this story takes place in 1987, I figured I should use songs that were around during that time.  
> Chapter 6: "The Wolf" by Heart (1987; _Heart_ )  
> Chapter 11: "Bad Animals" (1987; _Bad Animals_ ) performed by Heart.  
> Chapter 14:"Teenage Overdose" by Loverboy (1980; _Loverboy_ )  
> Chapter 17: "Take Me To The Top" by Loverboy (1981; _Get Lucky_ )  
> Chapter 25: the Scorpions' "Rock You Like a Hurricane" (1982; _Love at First Sting_ ), Def Leppard's "Pour Some Sugar On Me" (1987; Hysteria) and Poison's "Talk Dirty to Me" (1986; _Look What the Cat Dragged In_ ). There's also a small Alice Cooper reference.  
> Chapter 27 (in order used): Def Leppard's "Love Bites" (1987; _Hysteria_ ), Whitesnake's "Still of the Night" (1987; _Whitesnake_ ), and another Def Leppard song, "Animal" (1987; _Hysteria)_  
>  Chapter 28: "Die Hard the Huner" by Def Leppard (1983; _Pyromania_ ), "Gods of War" by Def Leppard (1987; _Hysteria_ )  
> It's scary how I know all these old classic rock songs and I'm only 16 . . . *shrug* Okay, moving on.
> 
> The stuff about werewolves in this story comes from several legends, books, and TV shows, some examples being the Dark Guardian series by Rachel Hawthorne, The Wereling trilogy by Stephen Cole, and the TV series _Teen Wolf_. Much influence and ideas also come from _The Wereling_ and _Teen Wolf_. Also, the book used in Chapter 18 doesn't actually exist. I got the text, as well as the title, from a Nancy Drew computer game, _The Curse of Blackmoor Manor_ , if you really have to know. I believe that belongs to Her Interactive. I just included it in here because, well, I really wanted to somewhere in this story for some reason. Or maybe it was the plot bunnies. There's actually more to it than what I put in here, but I just didn't feel like putting the whole thing in.
> 
>  Rated PG - T, because, well, it's _werewolves_ we're dealing with here. And considering it's a cop drama show that takes place in high schools . . .

The Jump Street unit was staking out a house from across the street, since they suspected one of the kids in the family was a drug dealer. Correction: Tom Hanson and Judy Hoffs were. Doug Penhall, Harry Ioki, and Captain Richard Jenko were each at home, sound asleep.

"How much longer, Hanson?" Hoffs asked.

The newbie on the team was about to answer when he spotted movement: a seventeen-year-old boy with long blond hair wearing jeans and a black T-shirt with a black leather jacket had just put up the garage door. They could easily see the lights on, the full moon giving them good visibility. The junior, John Bryant, hopped on his dirt bike and rode away, heading towards University Park. Hanson said, "I say we follow him, Jude."

"You think?" she said sarcastically, shifting her car into gear. Silently they pulled off of the curb and followed the high school kid, headlights on low beam. If Judy could've, she would have turned the headlights off, but she needed the extra light; the light by the full moon wasn't enough to see by. The kid didn't seem to have a problem with the poor visibility, though. He drove through the streets as if it were daylight.

"There's something odd about this kid, Judy," Hanson muttered.

She silently agreed, but he didn't seem to notice. Tom suddenly bolted upright in his seat, eyes straining through the gloom. "Stop. Now." His voice was taut.

The car had barely slowed to a stop before the twenty-one-year-old cop was on the street, having hit the ground running.

"Hanson, where're you going?" he heard Hoffs call after him. Part of him wanted to answer, but a stronger part didn't. He kept sprinting in the direction he'd seen John Bryant go in.

Trees thinned and moonlight filled the clearing. The Jump Street officer stopped dead, terror making his heart freeze. He couldn't move.

In front of him was a golden-furred wolf with green eyes, its fur bristling and teeth showing. Beside the _canis lupis lupis_ was clothing that matched Bryant's. Before Hanson could even begin to process that, a low growl issued from the wolf's throat and it leaped, teeth bared and claws outstretched.

Tom could only duck and hope it would miss. The werewolf—at least, he suspected it was a werewolf—overshot but turned rapidly. It lunged before he could react, teeth sinking into his side.

Pain racked his body; he felt as if he were on fire. A scream bubbled up in his throat, but he bit it back, not wanting to alert Hoffs something was wrong. In a weird way, he wanted to protect her.

Pieces of forgotten, half-buried legends came back to him now. The bite, a full moon . . . okay, he was screwed. Hanson didn't ask to be bitten and here he was about to transform—

The pain built and built, and finally . . . nothing.

When the undercover cop opened his mouth to speak, all that came out was a bark. Startled, he looked down at his feet and jumped into the air. Where his feet should've been were paws. Hanson couldn't process that. He quickly turned in a circle and found he was chasing his tail, dark brown like his hair, as was the rest of his fur coat.

Then he realized the golden wolf had shifted back to Bryant, who was now dressed and racing away. A series of curses flew to mind, but in wolf form, all that he could manage were snarls, growls, and barks. _Okay, this isn't working. How do I change back?_

The only thing that came to mind was picturing himself as how he used to be. Hanson concentrated and, with a quick shimmer, found he was human again. Not surprisingly, his clothes were shredded beyond recognition.

The sound of feet pounding on the grass alerted him to Judy Hoffs' presence. He whirled around just as she entered the clearing, weapon drawn. "Don't shoot!" he said, throwing up his hands. "It's just me."

The black cop blinked in surprise and holstered her gun. "Hanson, what happened?" she asked, taking in the fact that their quarry was gone and he looked terrible.

He looked at her with fearful brown eyes. "Jude, I need help."


	2. Chapter 2

"Hanson," Judy repeated more forcefully, " _what happened_?"

His mind raced. What should he tell her? Somehow the truth seemed like a bad idea. Who would believe that their partner, best friend, co-worker, whatever, had turned into a werewolf? It being October didn't help his cause; in fact, it made it seem even more unbelievable. So he settled on the half truth. "I reached the clearing and didn't see Bryant. When I turned, he jumped me. We fought, but he took off."

Hoffs looked skeptical. "The how did your clothes get torn up? And I could've sworn I heard growling and barking."

"There was a wolf, too," Hanson amended, wincing as he anticipated her reaction.

Her eyes traveled over his body, searching for wounds. Tom felt himself growing warms as they lingered in places they shouldn't. "Enjoying yourself?" he sapped.

She flushed, then stepped close, slipping a finger underneath a tear in his shirt sleeve. "The wolf attacked you, right?"

"Yeah. Why?"

Hoffs swallowed hard. "Hanson, I'm not seeing any wounds or injuries."

 _What?_ He glanced down, straining to see his right side, where he'd been bitten. _There was nothing there._ He thought, _Ooo-kay._ So he could heal quickly as a wolf. Somehow, that little tidbit had never been in the movies or legends. Well, Hanson didn't really know about the movie _Teen Wolf_ , since he'd never seen the whole thing. The undercover officer defended himself when he saw her frightened look, "Hey, I'm not lying about the wolf."

"I believe you." She hesitated before asking, "It didn't bite you, did it?" Her dark brown eyes flicked upward at the full moon, visible in the night sky.

Despite himself, Tom managed a weak smile. "I never figured you for the type that believes in werewolves, Jude."

She whacked up upside the head. "I don't, but you might have rabies."

 _From a werewolf? Yeah, right._ Hanson forced his thoughts back to the junior. "Look, we'd better head back to the chapel. I want to brief Jenko, tell him what's happened."

"Hanson, he's asleep."

He kicked himself mentally. "Oh, yeah. Better wait until the morning."

"Hhmm-hum." A slight smile lit Judy's face. "Come on, Hanson. Let's go. We need to find you a change of clothes."

"You're right about that," Tom joked, falling into step beside her. Maybe he would wake up the next morning to find this had all been a dream.

Not even he could be that lucky.

~*~*~*~

By the time morning came, he'd shifted into wolf form twice, both by accident. One was because of a nightmare; he'd jolted awake with a howl and rolled off the side of the bed and onto the floor before shifting back. The other was due to thinking about what had happened earlier and the night and memories of himself as a wolf. Man, when he got his teeth into that Bryant kid . . .

Climbing up the stairs to the chapel entrance, Hanson closed off such thoughts. It wasn't like him; as the others often said, he never quit being a cop.

When he walked inside, he could tell who was already here by the smells—it was something he would never have noticed before.

"Hey, there, sport," Jenko greeted him from the table in the middle of the room near the red-and-yellow striped pole the team used to slide down from the locker room.

"Hey, Jenk," Hanson replied. His eyes took in Penhall, wolfing down cereal like his life depended on it, and Ioki, who was eating a slice of pizza. "Where's Hoffs?"

"Right here," she said, walking in from behind him. The only female officer on the team eyed him warily, clearly still not over what had happened the night before and guessing he was hiding something. She's right about that, Tom thought bitterly.

"Good," the Jump Street captain said. "Now that we're all here"—he gave Hoffs and Hanson a pointed look—"let's get down to business." Richard Jenko leaned back in his chair, rested his hands behind his head, and propped his feet up on the table. "Anyone want to tell Jenko-daddio what went down at the schoolhouse today?"

Harry finished the pizza slice and tossed a bag half-filled with coke on the table. Doug snatched it up. "This for the cooking class?" he teased.

"You wish," Ioki retorted. "That hasn't even been used yet." He looked at the hang-on hippie. "This kid let me pay up front and walk away with the bag under my arm. I mean, this guy is not too bright."

"Good work, Ioki," Jenko said. "I'll get you a warrant by tomorrow morning."

"And I share the collar, right?" Hoffs asked. She slapped Harry on the shoulder at his incredulous look and said, "Hey, it was my two grand!"

Ioki's head hit the table and stayed there.

TheJump Streetcaptain turned his attention to the team's most recent member. "I read Hoffs' report about last night, Hanson. There anything you didn't tell her?"

 _Other than the fact I can now shape-shift into a wolf after being bitten on the night of a full moon, you mean?_ he thought sarcastically. Aloud, he said, "No, not really. I don't think Bryant's the one we're looking for, though. He may be a drug dealer, but he doesn't strike me as a killer." As he said that, he felt a flicker of doubt. Last night's attack had been unprovoked—at least from Hanson's point of view. Who knew what the kid was thinking at the time, unless it was to defend himself. . . . His captain's voice broke into his thoughts: "Maybe not, but keep an eye on him anyway. Penhall, what d'ya got?"

The stocky, long-haired undercover officer looked up from his breakfast, swallowed, and said, "Uh, well, I've gotten in with our suspected arsonists, Captain, but I dunno, they're real suspicious of newcomers."

"Your cover blown?" Jenk asked.

"No."

Ioki perked up. "Well, that's good," he said, lifting his head from the table.

"What about you, Hoffs?" Jenko addressed the African-American female officer.

She glanced at Hanson briefly before answering, a fact that wasn't lost on the newly-made werewolf. "I'm with Hanson on this one, but I think we should stick with John Bryant a little longer. Something about him isn't right."

Jenko sighed. "Okay, let's get to class everyone. See you later."

Penhall brought his fists down on the table. "Let's go do it!" he exclaimed, adding a little howl at the end before rising and walking out to his motorcycle. As he walked past Jenko, Hanson's suddenly sharp hearing picked up a muttered, "I'm glad he's on our side," from the captain. Smiling slightly, Hanson walked down to his Mustang to drive to school.


	3. Chapter 3

The student parking lot and the front of the school doors was crawling with students when Hanson pulled up in his blue '68 Mustang. His cover was Tom Henderson, a transfer from East with a bit of an attitude and drug problem. Now he'd have no trouble with that, his senses being as heightened as they were. However, the scents were now overpowering—and not all of them were flattering. He almost covered his nose before he realized none of the others had his keen senses. Well, except for the junior who could turn into a golden-furred, green-eyed wolf.

Tom walked up the steps to the entrance of Central High School and headed to his locker. He'd made it halfway there when he heard voices coming from one of the guys' bathrooms. Curiosity aroused—not to mention his cop instincts—he edged toward the open door, barely making any noise.

"Okay, look," said a voice he recognized as Max Outhwaite, a kid in his gym class, "I owe you for the drugs, and I'll get the money. Promise."

"You better," John Bryant's voice said coldly. Tom flinched; he could detect the hint of a snarl in the lean werewolf's voice.

The two emerged from the restroom and froze when they saw Hanson. Then Bryant's lips curled upward in what could have passed for a smile. "I see you survived last night, Henderson."

"What's it to you?" Tom forced out.

John flicked a look at Max and told him to beat it. Looking confused, he did. Then the blond junior looked back at Hanson. "I was defending myself, man. And not everyone survives."

Hanson lost it. He grabbed the cocky teen by his shirt collar and shoved him up against the nearest row of lockers. "What did you do to me?" he demanded, resisting the urge to rip the kid apart.

"I think you know," Bryant said calmly. "Besides, the bite is a gift. If you want, I can help you control it. We can't have you shifting in front of an audience, can we?"

"No deal," Hanson said immediately.

The teenaged werewolf made a tsking sound and shook his head. "Too bad. Hey, you still want to supply me?"

Tom sighed. "Yeah, sure." He figured now was as good a time as any to pump the kid on info about the murder. "You have any idea who killed Ashley Myers?" The brunette senior had been found raped and murdered in a ditch not far from Central earlier in the week, but after Hanson had been assigned to the school the week before. According to a few of her classmates, and what the undercover cop had observed, she was a bit of a wild child. Tom couldn't figure if that had anything to do with her death, but since he and Hoffs were here anyway, they'd taken on the case along with the original drug case.

John sobered immediately and shook his head again. "No, I don't. Why are you so interested in that, anyway?"

"Don't you want to know who killed her?" Tom shot back. He loosened his hold a little bit, giving the other wolf a bit more breathing room. "I do."

"Again, why?"

Tom hesitated before replying, "I saw her around a few times and she seemed like a nice girl."

"Yeah, she was when she wasn't out partying." Bryant opened his mouth like he was about to say more, but the bell rang before he could. As their peers swarmed the halls, he smirked, said, "My offer still stands," and slipped out from under Hanson's grasp.

He stood there looking after the teen for a few seconds before remembering he'd originally been heading for his alias's locker. Hanson found Hoffs there waiting for him, leaning against the locker next to his. She asked, "Where'd you disappear to?" as he spun the combination lock and opened the door.

"Ran into Bryant," he responded, suddenly all too aware of her. The way she was leaning too close, how her brown-black hair curled over her shoulders, even her scent . . . Hanson mentally kicked himself. This was no time to get distracted.

"What did you do?"

Tom bristled. "I didn't pick a fight with him or anything. He asked if I was still supplying him, and I said yes. Then I wanted to see if he knew anything about Ashley Myers' death, but he said he didn't."

"Do you believe him?"

"I don't know. See you at the chapel?"

"Yeah. Bye, Hanson." She pushed away from the locker and walked off. Tom watched her walk off before heading to his first hour. He hoped he'd be able to handle his new abilities.


	4. Chapter 4

First hour was science—anatomy to be precise—and they were dissecting a cat. The new werewolf walked in and was assaulted by the scents of death and formaldehyde. Briefly, he pulled a face, then quickly resumed his normal expression as a couple of kids gave him odd looks. Ignoring them, he took his seat and pulled out a notebook—his lab book—and a pencil. It was best to be prepared.

A kid plopped down in the seat beside Tom, startling him. He issued a low snarl before cutting it off, hoping no one had heard him.

Apparently his lab partner did. The girl, named Miranda Blackthorne, looked at him n confusion. She had long, curly black hair and emerald-colored eyes, and today was dressed in her usual black T-shirt and white jeans. "What was _that_?"

"Sorry, you just startled me," Tom said quickly.

"Well, most people don't jump and snarl like an angry wolf when they're startled. What are you—a werewolf?"

Hanson tensed. Miranda, seeing the look on his face, laughed lightly and said, "I was just joking, Henderson. Lighten up. Besides, Halloween is in two weeks."

Tom relaxed. "So what are you going to be?"

"Haven't decided yet. You?"

The tardy bell rang, saving Tom from replying. Not that he knew what the answer would have been anyway.

"Okay, class," Mr. Harrison, the anatomy teacher, said as he strode into the room and shut the door behind him, "take out your lab books and a pencil and go to your stations. Today we're dissecting the cat's stomach." Tom could feel his own stomach turn. "Once you have your equipment ready, I want you to take a scalpel and cut a slit just below the rib cage. Then . . ." He droned on, but Tom tuned him out. The Jump Street cop was much more interested in seeing how far his abilities extended. He knew his senses were now heightened, but he didn't know their limits. Tom concentrated hard and to his surprise was able to hear what was going on in Judy's English class all the way down the hall on the opposite side, two hundred yards away. She was making a very persuasive argument on _Lord of the Flies_ by William Golding. His eyes started to close as he savored the sound.

"Henderson!" A book slammed down on his desk. Startled, Hanson jumped and opened his eyes to see the teacher—tall, glasses, receding hairline—glaring down at him. A quick glance around the room showed everyone but him was at their lab stations. Sheepishly, he grabbed his supplies and joined Miranda, fighting the urge not to gag as the smell of formaldehyde became overpowering, along with the putrid scent of dead flesh.

"Tom? You okay?"

Miranda's voice brought him back. He gave a half-hearted "Yeah" as he snapped on latex gloves, took the scalpel, and began cutting.

By the time they were done and there were five minutes left in class, Hanson could appreciate what a medical examiner had to deal with—only they cut into bodies to determine the cause of death, not for an educational experience. Even though the formaldehyde masked pretty much everything and the cat had been dead for a few days, he had actually been able to tell what its last meal had been—in this case, sushi. Not exactly something Tom wanted to know, but odors were important to a M.E.

Next period was AP English, one of Hanson's favorite classes. Since it was almost Halloween, they were stumbling through Edgar Allan Poe's "The Cask of Amontillado." Or was it "The Tell-Tale Heart"? Tom couldn't really remember. In both stories, someone was murdered. The motive in one was revenge, the other insanity.

As it was, they were reading "The Tell-Tale Heart." Was it Tom's imagination, or did he actually hear several hearts beating faster? There was something else, an odd smell . . . Shock thumped through his chest as he realized it was _fear_ he was smelling. _How in Hades is that possible?_ Fear wasn't something you could smell and yet he was smelling it. This wasn't natural. But then, nothing about his current predicament was natural.

"Mr. Henderson?"

Tom jolted out of his thoughts and looked at Ms. Stephens, the teacher. "I'm sorry, did you say something?"

"Um, yes. What do you think the narrator's motive for killing the old man was?"

"Well, if I was the defending attorney, I would plead not guilty by reason of insanity. But since I'm not . . ." His voice trailed off as he thought about that. "Fear. He even said that it wasn't the old man who scared him but the 'Evil Eye.' Since he wanted to rid himself of that eye . . ." Tom shrugged and leaned back in his chair, propping his feet up on his desk, ignoring the disapproving look Ms. Stephens was giving him. Glancing around, he noticed that pretty much the entire class were openly staring. He gave a couple of girls a jaunty little wave. They giggled and bent their heads together, whispering. Tom, with his enhanced hearing, was able to hear them.

"How did he come up with that?"

"Who cares? Besides, I think he's cute."

At that, Hanson laughed quietly, quickly turning it into a cough. He stopped when a few students gave him odd looks.

"Are you all right, Tom?" Ms. Stephens asked.

"Yeah, I'm fine," he replied.

"Good. Now, get your feet off my desk."

He did. "Anything else?"

"Yep. Homework."

The class groaned.

She ignored them and said, "For homework, I want you to pretend you're the defense attorney at the narrator's trial and write an opening statement as well as the argument. You can do a cross-examination if you wish, but don't make too much work for yourself. The first rough draft is due by the end of class tomorrow."

Class was dismissed as the bell rang and everyone scrabbled for the door.

~*~*~*~

Hanson caught up with Judy at lunch, in the middle of fifth hour. During his two previous classes (Trig and History) he'd heard rumors flying about Ashley's murder, but none seemed to stick—except one. One of the students had seen her leaving a huge party the week before on the night of her murder with a couple of guys, one of them a junior—or so she thought.

"Hey, Jude," Tom said lightly as he set his lunch tray beside her and sat down.

"Hi, Hanson," she replied. Luckily, they could talk freely since there wasn't anyone else sitting near them. Even if there was, the noise level in the cafeteria would have made it difficult to overhear anything.

"I may have something on our killer," he said, picking his slice of pepperoni pizza and studying it. Aside from the crust looking like cardboard, it seemed fine to eat. He took a bite, chewed, and swallowed.

"What?" Judy asked, stabbing at her salad with the plastic fork.

"It's just a rumor, but one of the girls in my history class said that she saw Ashley Myers leaving that large party last week with a couple of guys. Unfortunately I wasn't able to ask her what they looked like, but she did say she thought one of them was a blond junior."

"You know this girl's name?"

"No."

"Good going," she said sarcastically.

"Hey, I didn't exactly have time to find out," Tom snapped. He instantly regretted sounding so harsh.

Hoffs didn't seem to mind. "I'll see what I can find out about our victim. You keep squeezing Bryant." She pushed around some food on her plate, took a bite, and then dumped it in the trash can before walking away. Tom watched her leave, then, after glancing at his lunch—which suddenly didn't look nearly as appetizing—he followed suit.

~*~*~*~

Seventh hour, thank God, was P.E. and Coach Lee was making them run a mile on the track. Of course, this was nothing for Hanson; he used to do the five-mile run back when he was on patrol. That didn't stop the others from complaining.

"All right, cupcakes!" the coach said. "Listen up! I want two laps around the track for a warm-up, then stretch and stretch well. After that I'll sort you into groups and time you. Let's move!"

The entire class of thirty exited the gym and out to the track without complaint. Talking started up again as they jogged around the track twice. Tom couldn't help but shake his head when he saw some of the kids had to walk. What startled him was that he was pulling ahead of the pack. Okay, he was an adult posing as a teen, but he shouldn't be already done with his second lap while others were just starting their second.

Coach Lee gave him a calculating look, then nodded briefly before he barked out, "Start stretching, Henderson!"

Tom complied, too lost in his own thoughts to do much else.

When they were done stretching, Coach Lee divided them into four groups. Lucky Hanson was in the first group. Warily, he eyed the competition. A few of them were reasonably fit, others were not. Then Coach yelled, "On your mark . . . set . . . GO!"

They took off. Tom settled in the middle of the pack for the first half mile and managed to stay there. Quite a few of the leaders had taken off fast and were starting to die off. The 'wolf increased his stride and speed and steadily moved up. Before long, he was in the lead. Somehow he held on to it during the last half –mile, increasing the distance with each stride.

Coach Lee stopped the stopwatch as Tom crossed the finish line and stared at the time. Wordlessly he showed it to the undercover cop: 6:30. Then he said, "I think you should run cross country."

Hanson declined. "Isn't the season almost over anyway?"

"Yeah," the gruff coach admitted. Then he started jogging alongside the stragglers. "You call that running? A _snail_ could crawl faster than that! Move it!"

Tom shook his head in amusement. His eyes followed the group, instantly picking out the weaker members. It would be so easy . . .

 _No!_ Frantically he forced down the urges he knew were coming from his new, animalistic side. Officer Tom Hanson—though he'd never admit it—was afraid.

_What's happening to me?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aww, poor Hanson. And I love Coach Lee already. "You call that running? A _snail_ can crawl faster than that!" Lol. Hehe. xD


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: All I own are the DVDs. And even if this show were still on the air, it wouldn't be mine. If it was, you'd probably have noticed the whole werewolf-yness. Or would you? *evil smile*

Judy and Tom were heading back to the chapel after school let out in Hanson's Mustang. The newest team member was quieter than usual, Hoffs noticed. She asked, "Hanson, what's wrong?"

Tom, who'd been thinking over what had happened that day, jumped. "What do you mean?"

"Well, you've been . . . withdrawn since last night. And when we arrived, you slammed our suspect up against a locker in an argument. What were you thinking?"

"How'd you find out about that?" He couldn't help sounding defensive.

"The rumor mill. How else? And my own observations. You lied to me, Hanson! What's really going on? Does it have something to do with last night?"

He kept his eyes on the road. "I can't tell you."

"Won't, you mean."

"No, I really can't." Tom glanced at her, his expression hard, his voice soft. "It's for your own good, Judy." Unbidden, he found he was looking her over, his eyes lingering on the soft, soft skin of her throat, wondering idly what it would taste like . . .

"Why not?" Her voice snapped him back.

"Just trust me on this," he all but pleaded. _I don't want to hurt you, Jude._ Tom knew she either wouldn't believe him if he told her what he now was or she'd be horrified. He himself hated what he'd become. Okay, the heightened senses were pretty cool, but so far he was avoiding shifting into wolf form. Eventually, though, there'd come a situation where he'd have to transform. How would the team react? Well, Doug would think it was awesome. Tom wasn't so sure about Ioki and Jenko. Surely they wouldn't be _too_ freaked.

"Hanson—" Judy started again.

"Judy, stop pushing!' he snapped. There was a snarl embedded in his voice but he didn't care. "You might not like what you'll find out." He pulled into the side street that led to the abandoned chapel, killed the engine once the Mustang was parked, and slipped out, slamming the door. Hoffs followed.

"So this _is_ about last night," she accused. "What did that wolf do, Hanson?"

He whirled on her. "Please, Judy, quit digging. I meant what I said earlier. You _really_ won't like what you might discover. I . . . I don't want to see you hurt, Jude."

"Tom—," she began, but he was already heading up the steps to the chapel. The female officer was left out in the crisp air, stunned. She'd never seen Tom act like this before. Hoffs drew in her breath sharply as she ran last night's events over in her head. She had definitely heard snarling, growling, and barking, then nothing. When she'd arrived in the clearing, their suspect was gone and Hanson's clothes were in shreds . . . and there wasn't a mark on him. Her heart skipped a beat as she recalled the scared look in his brown eyes. In those same eyes, a few moments ago when she'd caught him eyeing her throat, there had been an almost animalistic gleam. The feral look had returned when he turned on her and she could have sworn she'd heard a low snarl in his voice that no human could hope to emulate. And last night had been a full moon . . .

 _Oh God. Hanson's a—_

"Hey, Judy!" Doug's voice made her look up. "You planning on staying outside all day, or are you coming in?"

She smiled briefly and called back, "Coming!" Then she started making her way up the stairs, silently chastising herself. It was crazy anyway. Hanson _couldn't_ be a werewolf. It was impossible to keep a secret around here, and besides, they didn't exist.

Entering the chapel, she relaxed at the familiar sight of Ioki and Jenko playing baseball, with Penhall acting as the umpire. Hanson was leaning against the pole they used to slide down from the locker room, his brow furrowed as if he were deep in thought. Looking at him now, she sensed nothing of the predator that had been lurking earlier. Judy must have imagined it. Even so, he seemed . . . different. She shrugged off the thought and walked over to Tom. "Hanson?"

He met her searching gaze, his eyes strangely flat. "Please tell me you're not going to find out what's wrong with me, because nothing is."

"I'm not going to," she replied slowly, "but I wanted to let you know that I'm here for you if you ever need anything."

The gesture surprised him. He hadn't known she'd cared so much. Then again, so did he. Why else would he keep his new wolfy self a secret? Aside from the fear of being persecuted—which probably came from watching too many horror movies—he wanted to keep her safe from anything he or an unstable John Bryant might do when they were—yes, he finally admitted it—wolves.

Jenko's voice cut into his thoughts with, "Okay, everybody gather 'round. Story time, folks." He dropped the baseball in a pile and sat down at his usual place at the table. Harry dropped the nightstick—the bat—and followed. After tossing the glove in the same direction of the baseball, Doug did the same. Judy and Tom weren't far behind.

"Tom, Judy, you have anything new? And Hanson, did you manage to stay out of trouble today?"

"On that first question, I may have a lead on our rape-homicide. A girl in one of my classes said she'd seen Ashley Myers at that large party the night of her death. She came in alone and left with a couple of guys. The girl I talked to—or overheard, rather—thought one of the guys was a junior at Central. Unfortunately, I couldn't get a description."

"Why weren't we informed of this when Myers' body was found?" Harry asked.

Tom shrugged.

"And the second question?" Jenko prompted.

"No, I didn't get in trouble, but I did have an altercation with our suspect," Hanson admitted. At the captain's pained look he added quickly, "No one saw anything."

"When are you going to learn, Hanson?" his superior officer demanded.

"Hey, it was about a personal matter, okay? On the bright side I didn't blow my cover and he claimed he knew nothing about the murder. As far as he's concerned, I'm just his supplier." _And fellow werewolf,_ Tom added silently. Of course, he couldn't share that. Not yet, anyway.

Jenko leaned back. He wasn't as relaxed as before, but he seemed okay about the incident. Well, not exactly okay but he'd accepted that it happened and was moving on. "How's our drug case?"

"It's pretty solid. The thing is, I don't know whether to go heavy on the drugs or the murder-rape."

"We'll do what we did on the Kim Morgan case: work the homicide-rape angle on Bryant, and if we're wrong on that, bust him on the drugs. In the meantime, try another stakeout. You'd better take Judy's car so he doesn't recognize your hotshot '68 from the school parking lot. _¿Comprende?"_

Hanson nodded, deliberately avoiding Judy's piercing gaze.

The Jump Street captain focused on Doug. "You have any new info, Penhall?"

The long-haired officer momentarily looked like a deer caught in headlights. He then relaxed and said, "No, but I'm working on it, Captain."

"How many times have I told you guys not to call me 'Captain'?" Jenko muttered. Then he turned his attention on Harry. "I managed to get that warrant for you a few hours early, so you can have the arrest and collar tomorrow morning."

"Thanks, Jenk," Ioki said. "You're the best."

"You're welcome, and don't wear it out. Now, if any of you have homework, get it done within the next two hours. I expect to see you in the field when it's dark."

Sighing, the four undercovers pulled out their various textbooks and worksheets and began to tackle the least-favorite part of their job.

After an hour, Hanson and Hoffs had left the building. Even though it was 6:00 the sky was already dark. With Tom's enhanced vision, his eyes quickly adapted. Suddenly the night seemed more exciting, rich with life. He wanted to shift and run . . . to hunt. Eyes closed, he inhaled deeply.

"Tom?" Judy asked, her hand a light touch on his shoulder. "You okay?"

"What? Oh—yeah, I'm fine," he replied, shaking off his wolf instincts.

She eyed him for a second, then turned and walked to her green car. "Come on, then."

Hanson followed her. This was going to be interesting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think this one was a filler, but whatever. I like where this is going, oddly enough. Reviews, por favor?


	6. Chapter 6

The two officers had followed Bryant from his home to several places of little to no interest—a couple of stores, a fast-food restaurant. He hadn’t bought anything in the stores, and all he’d carried out of the restaurant was a Big Mac, fries, and a small Coke. Tom found he could smell each distinct ingredient in the hamburger: cheese, beef, pickles, mustard, ketchup, the seasoning, even the bread. Now that he was ’wolf, he could sense—or scent, whichever you prefer—the teen’s animal form. Huh. Who knew just the fact he could change forms would alter his scent? Anyway, John was now heading into a club that was a popular teen hangout.

“What’s up with this kid?” Judy asked. “First he goes into a store and doesn’t buy anything, then McDonald’s, and now what? He wants to go clubbing?”

“Well, why don’t we go see what he’s up to?” Hanson suggested. At her hesitant look, he added, “I’m going in. You can stay here if you want and honk the horn when he comes out.” He started to open the door when Hoffs stopped him with, “Hey, since when are you in charge of this mission? It’s my case, too, Hanson.”

“Okay, okay. I’m sorry. It’s your ride. What do you wanna do?”

“For one, I don’t want to hit the horn. It’s broken. And second, I’m going with you.”

“What a surprise,” Tom muttered sarcastically as he opened the passenger side door and stepped out. His female partner was on his eight as they walked across the lot to the entrance. Both of them were in jeans—Hoffs’ form-fitting and black, Tom’s dark blue—white T-shirts, and jackets. Tom was wearing his worn, brown leather jacket and Judy had on her blue coat that had gold chains and beads dangling from the shoulders and sleeves and whatnot. Hopefully they wouldn't be _too_ inconspicuous. Really, when you were tailing someone, the last thing you wanted was to be made.

The two cops were assaulted by light, sound, and motion. It was bad enough for Judy but even worse for Tom. The new werewolf was having a hard time handling the bombardment of his sight and hearing. It was hard to filter out John with all the distractions. Pat Benatar’s “Shadows of the Night” was fading out, only to be replaced by something by Led Zepplin. Or was it Bon Jovi? Anyhow, Tom was finding concentration difficult. He opened his mouth to say something to Judy about splitting up when the teen wolf's now-familiar scent hit his nose. “Found him,” he whispered in Hoffs’ ear.

She nodded slightly. “Let’s move. We can keep an eye on him. Blend in.”

Tom smirked evilly. “How do you propose we do that?”

Judy rolled her eyes. “We stand around looking completely dumb. What do you think?” Tom didn’t need his abilities to know she was being sarcastic. Even so, he pulled her into the club even further and brought her body close to his, making sure Bryant was within eyesight at all times. It wasn’t hard to start moving to the thumping beat. Besides, it appeared John was hanging out with a few friends. He was handing them something: a bag with white powder. _Wait. Something here isn’t right._ Either this was a drug deal, or—

“Hanson, what is it?” Hoffs interrupted his train of thought.

“That look like a drug deal to you?” he asked, jerking his head in their suspect's direction.

Hoffs peered past him. Shaking her head, she said, “I don’t see anything. You’re sure you saw something?”

 _What?_ Tom glanced back again. There was nothing in the teenagers’ hands, nor could he detect any abnormalities in their clothing where they might have stashed the baggies. Then one of the teens turned, and Hanson caught the lupine gleam in his eyes. _Oh no. They’re ’wolf._ He whispered harshly, “Jude, we have to move. Now.”

A puzzled look in her eyes, she allowed him to lead her deeper into the throng of bodies. As if on cue, a hard rock song Tom recognized as being performed by the band Heart began to play.

_“You were born to privilege licking on a silver spoon. You think you gotta buy all your friends just so you can tear up the room.”_

_Oh geez_ , Tom thought, glancing back to see if the other ’wolves were following. Thankfully, he didn’t think they’d noticed him or Judy.

_“But your kind is a dime a dozen. I’ve seen it all before. A parasite in a good disguise, just another wolf at the door._

_“The wolf prowling in the nighttime. The wolf howling in the moonshine. The wolf gives you what you want but he ain’t no friend of mine.”_

“Ain’t that the truth,” Tom muttered under his breath.

“What?” Judy asked.

“Nothing,” he said quickly, heading for a hallway lined with mirrors, out of sight of the werewolf pack.

_“You lay it on oh so sweet, just like that bad cologne. You’re just smilin’ tooth and nail. Got to make your presence known._

_“But you are only a lonely hunter. Some things you can’t disguise. Just to look in the hallway mirror. Now it’s howlin’ in your eyes.”_

“Hanson, I thought we were—”

“Quiet,” he hissed, looking around furtively. He froze when he saw his reflection in the mirror: his lycan side was literally—like the song said—howling in his brown eyes. He couldn’t disguise his new nature forever. _Oh man_.

_“The wolf prowling in the nighttime. The wolf howling in the moonshine. The wolf gives you what you want but he ain’t no friend of mine.”_

Judy suddenly wriggled free of his grasp and faced him. “Hanson, we’re supposed to be tailing this kid, not running from him! You’re the one who never quits being a cop, remember?” The hard look in her eyes surprised him. It took him a few moments to form a reply, and when he did, he said, “I know, but just do what I say and you might live, okay?”

“In case you’ve forgotten, I—like you—am a highly trained police officer. I can deal, Tom, without you to protect me!”

He was about to make a furious retort when he heard the tread of silent footsteps behind him. Whirling around, Hanson made out Bryant and a couple of the sandy-haired junior’s pals heading for them. They were toast. Burnt toast.

_“Silent slick and stealthy. Slinking through your evil nights. You can see in the dark they tell me. The daylight burns your eyes.”_

“Jude—”

“Yeah?”

“Book it!” he ordered, heading for the exit, pushing Hoffs in front of him. The sudden movement alerted three of the ’wolves, and they began moving as fast as they could through the sea of dancing teens to reach the two undercover cops.

_I know you’re trying to track me down now. You’re right on my trail. You’re thinking you’re going for the big big game, but you’re just chasing your own tail._

_“The wolf prowling in the nighttime. The wolf howling in the moonshine. The wolf gives you what you want but he ain’t no friend of mine.”_

It seemed like forever, but they finally made it outside. A quick look over his shoulder allowed Tom to see the three ’wolves were on their trail, albeit in a disorganized fashion.

 _Crap!_ Aloud, he gasped out, “Keep running! Let’s try to make it back to your car, Jude.” Already, now that they were in the open space, he was pulling ahead slightly. For the first time, he was glad of the changes being able to transform into a ’wolf brought him.

Hoffs nodded and ducked around the corner so her green car, parked in front, was visible. Behind him, Hanson could hear the pounding of pawsteps on the asphalt. _Oh, please, not now!_

Judy made it to the door, opened it, and practically dove inside. Tom stood frozen in place as the huge ’wolves turned the corner. One had fur that had an almost golden hue; the others had black fur.

“Hanson, come on!” Hoffs yelled.

Her voice snapped him out of his trance, and, moving faster than humanly possible, he sprang high in the air and vaulted into the passenger seat. Judy gave him a look of stunned disbelief as he landed in the seat and hurriedly fastened the seat belt.

“Don’t just sit there looking at me!” he snapped. “Drive!”

As if she’d decided not to think too closely about what was happening, Hoffs shifted the gear into Reverse, and, tires squealing, tore out of there. The three ’wolves snarled in frustration. One of the black ’wolves lunged, but the golden ’wolf—John Bryant in ’wolf form—slid in front of him, nipping his ear in a warning. Tom could hear his voice clearly in his head: <No! We wait. You heard the alpha _. >_

<Yes, because you’re such a _good_ beta, > one of the other ’wolves sneered. The voice was unfamiliar, but Tom was sure of two things: a) this ’wolf was female and b) older, maybe a high school senior.

Bryant snarled a reply, but Hanson didn’t hear him; he’d managed to break the strange connection. Since being turned, he’d learned something new each passing hour. It seemed that when they morphed, werewolves could communicate using thought-speak, and nearby ’wolves in human form could hear them and reply in kind. Hanson filed this information away for further use. He also didn’t allow himself to relax until they were a good five miles from the club.

Hoffs pulled over and set the car in Neutral. Turning to him, she said in exasperation, “I don’t suppose you want to tell me what’s going on.”

 


	7. Chapter 7

Tom managed to swallow the hard lump that had suddenly lodged in his throat. He should have known Judy would bring this up at the nearest opportunity, even though he'd warned her to stay away. The 'wolf released a bitter, humorless laugh and shook his head. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

"Try me." Her voice had gone soft, coaxing, enticing. One of her hands rested over his. It was a gesture meant to be reassuring, but instead it sent his veins on fire. Quickly Tom jerked his hand out from under her touch. He thought, _Should I tell her?_

Uncertain, he forced himself to meet her gaze, which was full of concern. Hanson opened his mouth, but he closed it again as his ears picked up the sound of a dirt bike nearby. "You hear that?"

Hoffs tilted her head. "No, I— Wait, yes I do. He's coming this way."

Luckily, the street they were on had moderate traffic, so John didn't seem to notice them as he zoomed by. Tom exchanged glances with Judy, who put the car in Drive and pulled out into the stream of cars. They emerged a couple of cars behind the teenaged drug dealer, making sure he didn't know he was being tailed. Hoffs kept pace with the teen even when he quickly turned onto a side street and picked up speed.

"Whoa, take it easy, Jude," Tom said. "I think we're just supposed to follow him."

"Who cares? Besides, I need the collar. I had to give half of my last one to Ioki."

"He hasn't done anything!" Hanson protested.

"What about that drug deal you thought you saw?" she countered.

He relented. "Okay. Full speed ahead. Just don't try to kill me."

"Like what you did with Officer Dunnigan back when you were on patrol," she teased.

"How'd you know about that? It was months ago!"

Judy grinned. "I have my sources."

"Ioki told you what happened when we were tailing Wheckerly, didn't he?"

"You're no fun, Hanson." The little car hit a pothole and sent the two of htem up in the air. Tom yelped with surprise. "Cool it!" he cried when they landed. "I don't want to get arrested for speeding!"

"What do you mean 'you'? I'm the one driving!"

"You've been paired up with Ioki for too long! You're starting to drive like him!" Despite himself, he could feel a smile starting to form. Bickering with her like this helped to take his mind off the seriousness of the situation.

Suddenly Hoffs hit the brakes and sent her car skidding to a stop. Both of them were pitched forward, then jerked back into their seats due to the law of inertia. As Hanson unbuckled himself, he said, "Don't ever do that again." Unbeknownst to Judy, he'd been on the verge of changing. Could he shift at will, or was it just an adrenaline thing? Tom quickly pushed the thought aside; he'd have to try it on his own time . . . or he could take Bryant up on his offer. Confused, he shook his head to clear it.

"Hanson?" Judy's voice made him look up. She was outside the passenger door. "You coming?"

"Have you forgotten what happened the last time we tried following him on foot?"

Her eyes narrowed. "You're right. You never told me what's going on here, and how in Hades did you do that?"

"Do what?"

"Vault into your side of the car from the opposite side without even grazing me!"

"I don't know," he replied truthfully. Hanson was still hoping he could keep his secret, well, secret, but he wasn't sure how he would if he kept showing off like that.

"Right," Judy said sarcastically. "I don't suppose being bitten had anything to do with it."

"Will you drop it?" he snapped.

She studied him for a few moments. Hanson found he didn't like the look in her eyes. Then Judy turned and started walking in John's direction. Tom uttered a low growl of frustration. Against his better judgment, he exited the car and followed Judy. If anything, he had to go after her, keep her safe. Who know what the other werewolves would do if they found the two snooping around?

The two undercovers stole across the dark street, following the teenager. Luckily, Bryant didn't seem to know he was being tailed. He was heading for a sorry-looking building, known on the streets as Hotel California. "You can check out any time you like, but you can never leave." Apparently, whoever named it was a fan of the Eagles. Not that Hanson cared; the place was giving him a case of the creeps.

The door opened to reveal a man in what Tom judged to be in his mid to late twenties with short black hair and a thin, spear-shaped beard. He gave off some serious vibes. Immediately Tom felt like he should be the one giving the orders, that he himself was a lower-ranking wolf.

Where did that come from? Yet Tom had no doubt he was looking at the werewolf alpha. Just the aura alone was extremely powerful, and John was acting submissive, something he never would let show in the hallways at school. Straining his ears, Tom was able to hear what the two were saying.

"We might have a problem." That was John speaking.

"Oh? What kind of a problem?"

"You know that kid I accidentally turned? Tom Henderson?"

"Yes, I know. You shouldn't have lost control." The alpha's voice was smooth, almost oily, and surprisingly deep.

"I'm sorry about that, but I think he could make a valuable addition to our pack." At that, Hanson recoiled in horror. He didn't even _want_ to be a werewolf, and now they wanted him in their pack! Swearing silently, he tuned back in when John continued, "The thing is, I've spotted him following me a few times around town. If he tells anyone—"

"He won't," the nameless alpha said confidently. "He's your supplier, right?"

"Yes. I already offered to help train him, to control his new side, but he refused."

"Don't worry. He'll come to us in time, young beta."

Tom could see John bristle at being called that. Suddenly, he didn't want to be there. In fact, he wanted to be anywhere but Hotel California. He tugged on Judy's jacket and hissed, "Come on. Let's go."

Silently, she crept after him. They made it to her car and pulled out, heading back to the chapel. Hanson, horrified, kept going over what he'd heard in his mind. He also came to a conclusion. If Bryant offered once more to help him with his wolf side, his answer would be yes.


	8. Chapter 8

Bleary-eyed from his long night and lack of sleep, Hanson walked into the chapel. Immediately his gaze was drawn to Judy. Tom wasn't sure how much she knew, and he certainly wasn't keen on finding out. He'd warned her several times to stay away, but he also knew Judy would keep digging.

"Hey, Hanson!" Penhall greeted him. "How'd the stakeout go last night?"

Tom glared at him, forced down the growl that was rising in his throat, and stalked past his best friend.

"Okay," Doug mumbled. "I'm guessing it didn't go that well."

"Oh, gee, ya think, Penhall?" Tom snapped, his voice rich with sarcasm. "If you want to know how it went, ask Judy."

"But Hanson—" Doug started.

"Just drop it, Penhall," Judy broke in. Tom whipped his head around to stare at her in surprise. He thought, What is she doing? The werewolf opened his mouth, but Jenko walked over to them from his office.

"All right, what's going on?" the captain asked, fixing his three officers with a steely black glare.

Hanson exchanged a brief look with Judy before saying, "Nothing, Jenk."

Doug looked around. "Hey, where's Ioki?"

"Right here," Harry replied as he slid down the pole. "You got my warrant, Jenk?"

"Yeah," the hang-on hippie said, fishing a folded-up piece of paper out of his coat pocket. He handed it to Ioki. "Go get 'em."

"Thanks, Jenk," Harry said. "See ya in a few." Smiling, the Japanese cop walked out of the chapel, ready to make the bust. Hanson watched him go, slightly amused. It was true all four of them loved flashing their badges at their suspects, but Ioki in particular seemed to enjoy it.

"Okay," Jenko said. "Hanson, Hoffs that was a very interesting report. Anything you wanna fill in?"

Tom could feel Judy's eyes boring into him. Trying to ignore her, he replied steadily, "No, Captain."

"Don't call me—" Jenko broke off and sighed. "Fine. You three had better get to school."

Tom nodded and walked out, Judy right behind him. She'd been very quiet this morning, and as such, he had a vague notion of what was on her mind. So he wasn't surprised when she stopped in front of his Mustang with her arms folded over her chest, looking him over.

"You want to tell me something, Jude?"

"Last night," she began, "with those three wolves . . ."

Tom tensed. "You saw that?"

"Well, yeah. I was in the parked car a few feet away, or don't you remember? Anyway, one of those wolves had fur the same color as John's hair. And the night before last, you said there was a wolf with him. You were stretching the truth, weren't you? John _was_ the wolf, wasn't he?"

Tom found he suddenly couldn't meet her eyes. He rubbed the back of his head with his hand and looked down. "Judy, listen to yourself. And I told you to stop digging."

"Well, _I_ told _you_ that I'm here for you if you need me! Besides, I already guessed. I don't want to believe it, but you're a werewolf, aren't you, Hanson?"

He was stunned into silence. _How'd she guess?_ There was no way he'd risk confirming her suspicions, so he said, "We'd better head to school. We have a case to solve, remember?" He opened the driver's side door of his Mustang, sat inside, shut the door, and started the engine. Judy stepped away and Tom backed up out of the parking lot and started driving to Central. The look in Judy's eyes haunted him the whole way there.

* * *

Hanson made his way down the semi-empty hallways, searching for John Bryant. He might resent the junior, but somehow he didn't think the other wolf was a killer. A drug dealer maybe, but not a murderer.

As he passed the boys' restroom, Tom caught the teenage drug dealer's scent. He headed inside, not at all surprised when he saw John with Max—the same kid from yesterday.

Looks like Outhwaite found the money, Tom thought to himself.

Both boys had heard him come in and they jerked their heads up in surprise. Max stiffened and John looked wary.

"Oh, don't mind me," Tom said. "I wouldn't want to interrupt a business deal."

"No," John said, "it's all right. We were just finishing up. Right, Max?"

The senior nodded and left, nervously edging past Tom as if he were afraid the new student was going to stick him with a switchblade or something. When he was gone, the undercover cop asked, "What was all that last night about the alpha?"

Bryant gave a thin smile. "I'll tell you, but only if you agree to accept my offer."

Hanson swallowed, wondering why he was so on edge. This was what he had been waiting for, an opportunity to become closer to his suspect. "I'll let you train me."

"Great. Tonight, at University Park, at ten. Don't be late."

Tom said with a thin smile of his own, "I wouldn't miss it."

 _I just hope I know what I'm getting into._


	9. Chapter 9

When Tom met up with Judy at lunch, he had almost nothing to tell her. She eyed him warily as he sat next to her and then focused on eating her lunch, which consisted of what looked like a chicken patty sandwich and seasoned potato wedges. Tom took a few bites of barbecued pork, enjoying the taste of each distinct ingredient. He’d always liked meat, but since he was turned, Tom found he enjoyed it even more.

“You find out anything?” he asked in between bites of sandwich.

“’Sides the fact you’re a—”

“About the case,” Hanson interrupted.

“Oh. I was actually able to get a better description of that junior your girl said she saw our victim leaving that party with. Unfortunately, it doesn’t match Bryant.”

“Okay, so who’d he look like?”

“Dark hair, blue eyes, maybe 5 foot 4. I think she said he was in a black dress shirt, black leather jacket, and black slacks.”

“You got a name?”

“Yeah, uh, Mason Folan. From what I heard, he’s pretty cute.”

Tom glared at her, fighting back unreasonable envy. It wasn’t like they’d ever been involved or anything, even if Tom had felt a connection when they’d first met. When he’d mentioned it to Jenko, his captain had said he’d never make the weight.

Judy noticed his look. “What?”

Tom took another bite of barbecued pork sandwich, chewed, swallowed before answering, “Nothing. Look, I got a meet with John tonight. U.P. at ten.”

“You want me to come with?”

“I’ll be fine,” Hanson said. He dragged a fry through ketchup and popped it in his mouth.

 Judy looked at him dubiously. “I hope you’re right.”

“Look, I just don’t think John is our killer. Sorry, but he doesn’t strike me as a rapist and murderer. He’s a major drug dealer, I’ll give you that, but . . .”

“Okay, okay, I get it,” Judy said with a half laugh. She rose from her seat, taking her tray with her. “So I’ll catch up with you later?”

“Sure,” Tom replied. “I’ll let you know if he tells me anything.”

Judy nodded and started to walk off. Then she paused and looked back. “Hanson . . . be careful.”

“Hey, am I a cop?”

“Yeah.”

“Then I’ll be okay.” Tom smiled at her, and as he did, he caught a whiff of her scent for the briefest moment. It reminded him of burning wood and had a musky tang, almost like wildberries. It faded as she moved away, leaving Tom a little disconcerted. Hopefully when he met with John tonight, the more experienced werewolf would be able to explain what was going on.

* * *

Tom parked the Mustang on the curb and stepped out. He locked it and started walking across the grass, surprised that his eyes had adapted so quickly. The moon had started to wane, but he could see just fine.

When he entered the clearing, John was already there, leaning against his bike. The blond seventeen-year-old shoved off and walked over, his stride confident, yet powerful. Looking at him now, Tom could see the ’wolf in the kid’s movements.

“So,” Tom said, “how exactly does this whole werewolf thing work? I mean, do you change only when it’s a full moon? And when you shift, is it full wolf or that weird hybrid thing? Also, I couldn’t help noticing that bitemark is already gone.”

“Would you slow down?” John snapped. “Geez. In order, we can shift whenever; the full moon has nothing to do with it. Well, I take that back. Only the first transformation is lunar controlled. When we shift, as I’m sure you’ve noticed due to your own experience, we go full wolf, but the eyes remain human. That hybrid form is a total myth, and it creeps me out, to be honest.”

Hanson had to crack a smile. “This from a drug-dealing teenage werewolf.”

“Yeah. As for how your wound is already gone, we heal really fast in ’wolf form unless we’re bitten or attacked by another lycanthrope.

“In case you’re wondering about the whole silver thing, that’s total Hollywood crap. We’re affected by Wolfsbane, mostly if the bullet or whatever is filled with it.”

“What about the alpha?” Tom asked. “And I thought one of those ‘wolves was female.”

“Well,” John began, “the first transformation for us is at age thirteen, unless, of course, you’re bitten, but a pureblood female won’t turn ’wolf unless she mates with a ’wolf. As for the alpha . . . well, what do you know about real wolves?”

“Uh, not much,” Tom said, rubbing the back of his neck.

John sighed. “Well, you have your alpha pair—male and female—who are the pack leaders. Then you have the beta, who’s the second in command.”

“That’s what the she-wolf called you,” Tom remembered.

Bryant nodded. “Yep. I’m the pack’s second. The rest of the pack fall in line accordingly. If you join, you’ll be an omega—the lowest-ranking ’wolf in the pack.”

 _Oh great,_ Hanson thought sarcastically. Wanting to change the subject, he shifted his weight and said, “Okay, but what brings on the change? Is it an adrenaline rush or something? And how are my senses so heightened?”

John smirked. “First of all, clothes hamper our ability to shift.”

Tom took a few moments to comprehend that. When he did, he pulled a face. “Please tell me you’re joking.”

“Nope. Anyway, whenever you want to shift, picture yourself as a ’wolf. Your body will take over. Just know that we’re telepathic in ’wolf form, so we’ll be able to read each other’s thoughts. As to how your senses are heightened, we retain many of our ’wolf senses even in human form.”

“That’s only slightly freaky.”

John shrugged. “Try it. Don’t worry, I won’t watch,” he added when Hanson flashed a doubtful look. To prove his point, he turned around.

Tom sighed and reluctantly shucked off his clothes. Closing his eyes, he formed an image of a dark brown ’wolf in his mind. When he opened them, he was on all fours and everything seemed sharper. His vision picked out every little movement, the clearing as bright as if it were daytime. With his enhanced hearing, he could hear things so high-pitched he knew he couldn’t detect them if he was a regular human. And the smells were incredible! Compared to a ’wolf’s sense of smell, humans had none whatsoever. Then again, humans were also blind and deaf compared to the ’wolf’s senses.

The cop became aware of a shimmer, a distortion in the air. Seconds later, a golden-furred ’wolf with emerald-colored eyes had trotted up next to him. The golden ’wolf flicked Tom with his tail and asked, <Well?>

<Okay, this is cool,>Hanson admitted. <Now what?>

John’s tongue lolled out in a literally wolfish grin. <Now I show you the world through the eyes of a ’wolf. Come on.>

He took off, and Tom forced his paws to move after the junior. Wolves could attain bursts of speed up to forty miles per hour, but they couldn’t hold that speed for very long.

Suddenly the beta peeled away. Tom shortened his stride and glanced to his left, wondering where John had gone. The next moment, there was a flash of gold and Hanson was blindsided. Reacting on instinct, he allowed himself to hit the ground and rolled before scrambling to his paws. Baring his teeth at the more experienced ’wolf, he demanded, <What was that for?!>

<If you’re ever attacked by another ’wolf, you need to learn how to fight. Or are you chicken?>

Tom snarled. <I know how to fight.>

<But do you know how to fight as a ’wolf?>John countered.

In response, Hanson crouched low, muscles tense, and circled the teen ’wolf. When he was sure he had an opening, he darted in and nipped the golden ’wolf on the shoulder, springing back before John could strike a blow.

<Very good,>the drug dealer commented.

<Look, we don’t have to do this all in one night,> Tom reasoned. <How about we meet here again tomorrow at the same time?>

<Sure. Now come on.>John walked past him, whacking the undercover cop on the nose with his tail. Hanson had to resist the urge to sink his teeth into the offending scrap of fur. Besides, he might as well use the opportunity to see if his suspect knew anything about this Mason Folan character. Tom asked, <Hey, do you know a guy named Folan? Dark hair, blue eyes, junior.>

<Mason? Yeah, I know him. So do you. He was one of the ’wolves with me last night. Why do you want to know?>

Hanson nearly tripped over his own paws. Recovering quickly, he replied, <You know Ashley? Real wild child, pretty, dead. I just heard Mason was the last person to see her, that they left that party together.>

 John stopped and stared, his hackles rising. <You think he killed her? That’s crazy!>

<Well, it’s not like I’m a cop or anything,>Hanson covered. <And what makes you so sure it’s crazy?>

Bryant’s lip curled and he let out a disdained snort. <You’re out of your frigging mind, man!>

<Am I?>

Instead of answering, John growled and picked up the pace until he was sprinting. Tom followed at a trot, pondering over what he’d learned. The next chance he had, he was going to share John’s reaction with Judy. It would be interesting to see what she thought. First, though, he had to learn more about his new side and try to find out enough to bust John, as much as he was suddenly disliking the idea. Even though he was supposed to be working the rape-homicide with Judy . . .

Hanson shook himself, hoping to clear his head. Scenting the other ’wolf up ahead, he lengthened his stride and entered the clearing. Shifting back to human form, he dressed quickly, surprised at how easy it was to shift back and forth with barely a thought. Leaving Bryant to his own devices, Tom jogged back to the Mustang, unlocked it, slid inside, and pulled out. First he had to check in, but then he was going to have himself a well-deserved rest. 


	10. Chapter 10

The rapping on his apartment door woke a sleeping Tom Hanson. Crossly, he shook off his dream in which he'd been running through mist-filled woods with a wolf pack and made his way to the door. A quick glance at his watch showed it was four in the morning.

Sighing, he opened the door, not at all surprised to find Judy on the other end.

"Judy, what are you doing here? It's four in the morning!"

"Can I come in?" she asked, ignoring his question.

Blinking away sleep, Tom opened the door further. "Sure. Come on in." He stepped aside as Hoffs walked in. She immediately headed for the couch and sat down, patting the space next to her as an invitation for Hanson to join her.

Warily, he plopped down next to her and said, "I don't suppose you want to tell me why you're here."

Judy fidgeted a little and wouldn't look at him. Finally she said, "Hanson, we're friends, right? I said you could come to me if you need anything, but instead you've been closing me off. Why?"

"Yes, we're friends. Like I said before, I don't want to hurt you, Jude. I've warned you three times already not to get close, and I think you know why. You said it earlier today. Or yesterday, whichever. That still doesn't explain what you're doing here."

Even if he already wasn't watching her, he could feel the tension in her muscles. When Judy spoke, her voice was slightly angry, yet he could detect a hint of fear. "So you _are_ a werewolf."

"Yeah," Hanson admitted.

"And you didn't think _that_ was worth mentioning before now?"

Tom bristled. "I haven't told anyone else on the team! Jude, you're the first person I've told. Besides, I was afraid of how you'd react, and I can't always control my 'wolf. Apparently it's different for newbloods than purebloods. That aside, I've been recently turned. John was helping me at that meeting I told you about. You still haven't told me what you're doing here."

"I couldn't sleep," Judy said, a biting edge to her voice.

"You couldn't sleep, so you come here?"

"That and I was worried about you." She gave him a half-smile. "I guess I had good reason to be."

Hanson looked down at his clasped hands and muttered, "I guess so." Glancing back up at her, he caught her sweet scent again. Noticing how tired she looked, he said softly, "Come here," and settled his left arm over her shoulder, drawing her close. To his surprise, she didn't pull away. Instead, she relaxed and leaned into him, resting her head on his shoulder. Before long, he heard her breathing slow and deepen as she slipped into sleep. Smiling slightly, he maneuvered himself out from under her body, grabbed a pillow and blanket from a chest of drawers, and covered her with the blanket, laying the pillow under her head as he carefully shifted her sleeping form so she was lying stretched out on the couch. Then he started to head back to his room before pausing and looking back at her. Without really thinking about it, he undressed and shifted forms, still amazed at how easy it was and the strength in his wolf body. He barely made any nose as he crossed to the couch and curled up into a ball, drifting into sleep himself. This time, he didn't dream of anything at all.

* * *

When Judy woke up later that morning, she felt confused for a moment, wondering why she wasn't in her apartment. Then she remembered coming over to Hanson's and the strange conversation they'd had. Hoffs laughed quietly. No way that was real. Maybe she was still asleep.

All doubts left her head as she looked over the edge of the couch, having heard a noise. There, lying stretched out on the floor, was a large dark brown wolf. A small shriek escaped from her throat.

The wolf stirred and raised its head, looking her straight in the eye. Judy caught her breath. Its eyes were sepia: the exact color of Hanson's eyes. She didn't want to believe it, but she whispered, "Hanson?"

The wolf sat up and gave her a lick on the forehead. There was a powerful ripple and the next moment, her sometimes-partner was grinning at her, crouched down so they were at eye level.

"Morning, Jude," he said.

"Okay, so you were telling the truth. I was right. Now go put on some clothes." And if her gaze was wandering where it shouldn't, Hoffs couldn't really help it, could she?

"You know, just a 'good morning' would work," Tom grumbled good-naturedly before he was replaced by the 'wolf. Judy followed him with her eyes as he headed into his bedroom. He might not know it, but he was gorgeous as a 'wolf.

Less than a minute later, he appeared in the doorway in human form, dressed in jeans, a black T-shirt, and his brown leather jacket.

"You hungry?" he asked.

Her mouth had suddenly gone dry. Unable to speak, she nodded.

Hanson started for the kitchen, then paused and looked at his watch. He cursed. "Come on, we're gonna be late for work." Already he'd grabbed the keys to the Mustang and was bolting for the door. Sighing, Hoffs followed him.

* * *

Hanson glanced at Judy as they started for the stairs that led up to the chapel. It had been only slightly stupid of him to tell her his secret, but at least she'd seemed okay with it. On the plus side, she wouldn't be pressing him on what was wrong.

Judy didn't seem to have noticed his look; she walked straight ahead and entered the semi-darkened chapel. Tom stepped in after her, his stomach growling as his gaze homed in on the leftover pizza on the table. He snagged a slice and bit down, enjoying the moment. Using his nose, he could tell Harry and Jenko were already here.

"Where's Penhall?" he asked.

Hoffs shrugged.

The sound of trash cans overturning alerted them to Doug's arrival. Hanson said, "I guess that answers my question," just as Doug stormed in.

"Ioki, did you put those trash cans in my parking spot?" he yelled.

Harry slid down the pole, an innocent look on his face as he joined the other three. Tom had to hold in a smile. It felt good to be with his friends like this after his life had gone crazy.

"Who, me?" Ioki asked.

"Yeah, you!" Doug retorted.

"All right, all right, break it up," Jenko said from his office doorway. The captain poured himself a mug of coffee and sat down at the group's table. Tom finished off the pizza slice, sat down, and took another one. Between bites he quipped, "What's up, Doc?"

Penhall rolled his eyes. "Hanson, do the world a favor. Never say that again."

Tom pulled a face and went back to eating his breakfast.

"Well." Jenko was momentarily at a loss for words. Then he focused on Harry. "Good bust yesterday, Ioki. You just sit tight. We'll find you another assignment soon."

"Sure." Harry, at the moment, looked more interested in his cream cheese bagel.

"Any progress, Doug?"

"Our arsonists are deciding to stay low for a while, Captain, but I heard they plan to strike in two weeks. So right now I have nothing to do but be in school. Have I mentioned I hate doing nothing?"

"So noted. Hoffs, Hanson, how's our rape-homicide case?"

Tom nodded at Judy, indicating she should speak. Hoffs said, "We may have a new suspect, Mason Folan. According to an eyewitness, Ashley Myers left the party on the night of her death with him. Are the lab results back yet?"

"Yes, they are." Jenko handed her sheets of paper. Hanson read them over her shoulder as the hang-on hippie continued, "As you can see, they show Myers had intercourse the night of her death and the autopsy showed signs of vaginal tearing and she was extremely intoxicated."

"This proves she was murdered," Tom said. "She was still underage. If someone intoxicated her and—"

"We get it," Doug interrupted.

"See you guys after school," Jenko dismissed them.

Hanson, Hoffs, and Penhall made for the parking lot without saying anything.

* * *

First hour was relatively dull. All they were doing was taking notes, and Hanson found himself starting to fall asleep. Miranda, his lab partner, made a few game stakes at conversation before falling silent and resigning herself to copying vocabulary.

Second hour, Honors English, was loads better. Having finished "The Tell-Tale Heart," they were reading "The Fall of the House of Usher." Ms. Stephens was giving a lecture on using context clues to help them understand what was going on in the sentence when the school's principal, Ms. Russell, appeared in the doorway. The principal crooked a finger, a signal for the English teacher to join her.

Sitting in his desk, Tom's curiosity was aroused. He concentrated and could clearly hear the two women.

"Is John Bryant a student of yours?" Ms. Russell asked.

"Well, yes." Ms. Stephens sounded puzzled. "What's this about?"

"You wouldn't happen to know where his locker is, would you?" Their voices were growing fainter as they walked down the hallway, but Hanson could still hear them as if they were standing right next to him.

"This is it," Ms. Stephens said.

Hanson had heard enough. He rose from his seat and walked out, following the women's scent trails. It occurred to him that he'd been in a similar position when he'd gone undercover to find who was burglarizing a school. With his sharp eyesight, he could see the teacher, the principal, and a janitor, who had a pair of bolt cutters.

"Open it," Ms. Russell ordered.

"Now, wait," Ms. Stephens protested. "I really don't think it's fair just to search a student's locker."

"It's not just unfair, it's illegal," Tom said as he came up behind them.

The three of them turned around.

"Tom, stay out of this," Ms. Stephens said.

"Yes, shouldn't you be in class?" Ms. Russell added.

Hanson glared. His 'wolf was bristling, apparently disliking authority figures. "No."

The principal shrugged and nodded at the janitor. "Go ahead."

"No!" Tom growled. He leaned against the locker, eyes goading on anyone who dared cross him.

"Out of the way," Ms. Russell demanded.

Hanson didn't budge. "I have to ask you not to open John Bryant's locker. I'm a police officer." He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out his ID, flashing his badge.

"A cop?" The principal's voice was hard. "Why wasn't I informed of this?"

"Because then wouldn't be undercover," Tom retorted.

"Okay, so you open the locker."

"Not without probable cause."

"Hey, this kid is a major drug dealer. That's cause enough. And were you sent in here just to ruffle up the student body?"

"No, I pretty much stay away from the student body," Hanson snapped. "I'm not going to open the locker, either."

"Why you—" Ms. Russell began just as the bell rang. Students poured out of their classrooms and Tom could easily pick out Judy. His annoyance with Central's principal was made clear as he snapped, "Let me do my job, Ms. Russell. Don't be an idiot."

The short-haired, wiry brunette opened her mouth, but the locker's owner appeared just then.

"Hey, guys," John said. He frowned slightly when he saw the omega 'wolf in a stand-off with three adults, but he quickly hid it. "Man, you give a guy some fake ID and he thinks he owns the place."

Hanson bared sharpening canines at the drug dealer. "This one isn't fake." He flashed his badge again, then tucked it away, pretending not to care about the betrayal in John's eyes.

"Open your locker, son," Ms. Russell said.

Bryant's green eyes lit with a sly look. Smirking, he said, "Not without a warrant. Even this cub here will tell you that. But since I'll love embarrassing him . . ." He opened the door, revealing dozen of bags filled with coke, speed, whatever.

"Hey, that's not mine," he protested even as Hanson cuffed him. Since lies had a scent all their own, he could tell the beta 'wolf was telling the truth. That didn't stop him from walking Bryant down the hallway full of curious onlookers. One caught his eye: a black-haired junior with a sly, crafty look in his blue eyes. The scent of another 'wolf hit Tom's nose. Somehow, he knew this case wasn't over.


	11. Chapter 11

Tom, as he opened the door to his Mustang after bringing John in, shuddered as he remembered the malicious look in Mason Folan’s blue eyes. The kid unnerved him for reasons he didn’t quite understand himself, and Hanson made a mental note to see if Folan had a record. In the meantime, he’d wait until John was tried and booked and then post bail. Okay, so the teen could be really annoying and he dealt drugs, but Hanson had taken a liking to him. Besides, he needed someone to help with his ’wolf side and Bryant was a pretty good teacher. Tom was still wary about what the alpha had said about him joining the pack, but maybe—if he did—the other werewolves would help him out if he was ever in trouble.

The omega dashed away his thoughts and started the blue Mustang. He pulled out of the lot and decided to head to Rocket Dog. It was barely ten and he was already hungry. Besides, the place was a regular teen hangout. Maybe he’d find some answers.

Turning on the radio for some company, Tom noticed it was halfway through Def Leppard’s “Animal.” It wasn’t one of his favorite bands, but whatever. When the song was over, he was about to change stations when he heard the opening notes of a Heart single, “Bad Animals.”

_They walk into the lobby,  
_ _The pack in black.  
_ _Heads are turning,  
_ _But they don’t look back._

_They must be crazy  
_ _Not buying in.  
_ _Why those outsiders  
_ _Got to shock and offend?_

Tom smirked. This was reminding him of the Jump Street unit and some of the kids they’d busted. 

_Bad animals—bad animals.  
_ _Got to swim upstream, got a rebel seed.  
_ _Bad animals—bad animals.  
_ _Got to push the grain or go insane._

_Out here on the frontline  
_ _Our territory is nighttime.  
_ _We walk the jungle line.  
_ _We stay alive._

_Bad bad bad boys  
_ _And dangerous girls.  
_ _Ain’t got no prescription, no.  
_ _They make their own styles._

This was all too true, Hanson realized. Smiling thinly, he remembered how he almost _didn’t_ make it into the Jump Street program.

_Typical family  
_ _Trying not to stare.  
_ _Look a little closer now  
_ _If you dare, if you dare, if you dare._

_Bad animals—bad animals.  
_ _Got to swim upstream got a rebel seed.  
_ _Bad animals—bad animals.  
_ _Got to push the grain or go insane._

Okay, now he was flashing back to his first case as part of the undercover unit. Remembering Waxer, his ’wolf snarled and bristled. Tom fought to suppress it, letting out a relieved sigh when it buried itself.

_Out here on the frontline  
_ _Our territory is nighttime.  
_ _We walk the jungle line.  
_ _We stay alive._

_Bad animals—bad animals.  
_ _Got to swim upstream got a rebel seed.  
_ _Bad animals—bad animals.  
_ _Got to push the grain or go insane._

The song faded out, and the Rolling Stones’ “Paint It Black” came on. Hanson made it through another two songs before he saw the Rocket Dog. A few high school-ers were already there, presumably having sneaked off campus for lunch. Tom exited his ’Stang and joined them, recognizing a couple of the teens as Central students. Hopefully they didn’t know he was an undercover cop.

The teenagers—three boys and a girl—eyed him suspiciously. Then the girl—one of the Central kids—shrugged. She said, “Hey, Tom. You’re in my Spanish class, right? I was wondering why you didn’t show.”

Her name was Alyssa, he remembered. She had olive-colored skin, blue-black hair, and gray eyes. Tom was also relieved that she hadn’t heard about him busting John. In answer, he said, “Yeah. As to why I didn’t show . . . well, it’s kinda a funny story. You guys want lunch?”

Alyssa exchanged glances with the other Central kid—a dark-haired senior named David—and replied, “Sure. By the way, this is Mike”—she indicated a seventeen-year-old guy with red hair, green eyes, an AC\DC shirt, and torn jeans—“and this is Wesley. Everyone just calls him Wes.”

“Glad to meet you,” Wes said. The boy had spiky auburn hair, pale blue eyes, and was wearing an all-black T-shirt and jacket with blue jeans. “Now that that’s over, can we eat? I’m hungry.” He opened the door and went inside without waiting for the others.

Hanson caught a whiff of fresh meat and his stomach growled. Following the enticing scent, he walked inside the diner, not bothering to notice that the place was almost empty or that the door had locked behind him, leaving him with the four teenagers. All his ’wolf cared about at the moment was lunch.

After paying for a dog, he perched on one of the booths, watching the teens as he took a bite. It was then he noticed they (aside from the cashier) were the only ones there. Tom swallowed his mouthful of food with a nervous gulp. Something about this didn’t seem right.

Wes and Mike sat on the table, trying to act nonchalant but failing. At a barely imperceptible nod from David, Wes leaned in close and murmured, “We know what you are.”

Tom’s blood turned to ice. Not showing his true feelings, he finished off the hot dog in rapid, neat bites. Looking at the two teens, he said, “What, a drug supplier?”

“No,” Wes said scornfully. “I’ve seen you hanging around University Park with that freak John Bryant. Guess like calls to like, huh?”

Hanson had to wrestle his ’wolf back. Still keeping his cover, he narrowed his eyes. “What are you saying?”

“Hey, these two”—he pointed at David and Alyssa—“didn’t believe me when I said I saw you two going into University Park as humans and then seeing ’wolves running around the place.”

“I told you, that’s crazy!” Alyssa protested.

Tom noticed her words had fallen on deaf ears. The three boys were gradually moving closer. He had to stall, keep them talking. The undercover cop said, “And your point is?”

Mike rolled his eyes. “Do you really have to make me say it, _wolf boy_?”

“I think the term you’re looking for is _werewolf_ ,” Wes sneered, his lip curling up in a way that was creeping the ’wolf out.

“Okay, that’s it,” Tom said. “I’m outta here.” He hopped off the top of the seat and headed for the door.

Immediately the three guys were surrounding him, hemming him in. Tom sucked in his breath at the eagerness in their eyes. His teeth itched as his canines lengthened and sharpened. The omega tried to speak, but every word came out as a growl. He knew he was close to losing it. But John said they could transform at will . . . Confused and worried, he shook his head. The action made him look even more dangerous to the teens, what with the fangs and growling and all. Finally, Tom was able to regain control. He snapped, “Let me out of here. _Now_.”

Alyssa was only too happy to open the door. Tom bolted, slamming the driver’s side door closed and screeching out of the lot, the smell of burning rubber filling his nose. He needed help. Bad. But first, he head to write up his report.

Nerves zinging, he drove for the one place he could think of where he’d be safe: Jump Street Chapel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not really sure where this fits into the whole scheme of things, but I was reading _The Wereling: Wounded_ and saw a scene similar to this, so the plot bunnies made me write it. Blame them.


	12. Chapter 12

"Hey, Tom," Jenko greeted him as he walked into the chapel, still shaken up from his encounter at Rocket Dog.

"Hi, Coach," Tom replied dully. He frowned when he saw what his captain was doing. "Are you really playing that guitar?"

"Yeah." Captain Jenko, who was sitting Indian-style on the main table, played another chord on the acoustic guitar. "Heard you busted our drug dealer. Nice job, man."

"Yeah, well, about that . . ." Hanson scratched the back of his head nervously. "I don't think the drugs in his locker belonged to him. He said they weren't his, and I believe him. Is there any chance we could—"

"Whoa, wait. Hold up," Jenko interrupted. He stopped playing and stared at his officer. "You want to spring this kid just so we can find who set him up? No way. Besides, his parents or someone will have him bailed out before dark. Why don't you go write up your report, Tom?"

"I was going to," Tom said testily. He found a blank report sheet and pencil and sat down at the table to fill it out. He'd type it up later.

There was a comfortable silence, broken only by the sounds of Jenko's guitar. Tom was pretty sure his captain was playing Supertramp's "Give A Little Bit," which didn't really help his mood. At least it didn't take long for him to file the report. When he had finished, he asked, "Hey, Jenk, do you still want me undercover at Central?"

It took Jenko a few moments to reply. "Sure. Since Halloween is coming up, just play the bust like it was practice or something. I'll tell the principal you're going back in. They don't know about Hoffs, do they?"

"No, her cover's still intact," Tom replied. Judy's alias was Judy Johnson—or J.J.—and she was a bit of a tough wild child with a drug and attitude problem. Needless to say, she was one of John's buyers.

"Good. Listen, I want you back in school. Since you don't think Bryant is our killer, focus on this Folan character. And Hanson, use your head. Try not to blow your cover again."

"Yes, sir." Tom gave him a smart salute and walked back out. He seriously hoped Alyssa and David wouldn't tell anyone what they'd seen and start rumors of a werewolf walking the school's halls. Then again, as both Miranda and Jenko had pointed out, Halloween was two weeks away. Maybe he could work it to his advantage, if he and Judy were at Central for that long. There was supposed to be a dance Halloween night and he'd sort of been looking forward to it.

Smiling slightly, he fired up the Mustang and began heading back to school, listening to "Living on a Prayer" by Bon Jovi and then "Rock and Roll" by Led Zepplin. Thank God they'd yet to play Michael Jackson's "Thriller."

* * *

It was relatively easy to sneak back onto campus and into the school. Thankfully, most of the students were at lunch, since it was aroundnoon. Security was lax anyway.

Once inside, Tom headed for the cafeteria. He was hungry again, and besides, he needed to see Judy.

A few kids gave him odd looks as he walked by, but he ignored them. He joined the lunch line, paid for a cheeseburger, and went to join Judy. Using his powerful sense of smell, it wasn't hard to find her.

"Hey, Jude," Tom said lightly as he set his tray down and pulled up a chair.

She jumped, then relaxed when she saw who was sitting next to her. "Where've you been?"

"I went to Rocket Dog after dropping John off, then to the chapel." Tom picked up his cheeseburger, studied it, and bit down. "Mmm, this is good. You have anything on Folan?"

"Well, no. We're going to have to get close to him. Any ideas how?"

Hanson shook his head. "No, I don't. He scares me."

Glancing over to his left, he saw she was trying not to laugh. Judy snickered, "You're scared of a seventeen-year-old?"

"As a matter of fact—"

Judy stopped and looked at him. "Oh, you're serious. . . . Hanson, is he like you?"

"Like me?"

She rolled her eyes. "A werewolf. Do I have to draw you a picture?"

"Will you please not say that in public?" Tom hissed, swiftly glancing around to see if anyone had overheard. It didn't seem as if anyone had been listening in, but he couldn't be too careful.

"Okay, okay. You know"—a mischievous note had crept into her voice—"you could go as yourself for Halloween."

He took another few bites of cheeseburger before saying, "Really?"

"Yep."

"All right. I'm going to give you three seconds to run away as fast and as far as you can. I'd suggest you book it."

Judy paled and shot up from her seat. "You wouldn't."

"One . . ."

She was gone by the time he'd counted to two, and when he reached three, she was on the far end of the cafeteria. With a low sound that was half laugh, half growl, Hanson took off after her.

He was feeling better already.


	13. Chapter 13

Judy sprinted down the hallway, neatly dodging any lingering students. (Not that there were many of them anyway.) Looking back over her shoulder, she saw Tom was a couple of feet behind her. Knowing it was no use trying to outrun him, she slowed to a fast walk. Tom went shooting past her before he skidded to a halt.

"And they say white boys ain't fast," she teased, panting a little.

"Funny," he replied sarcastically.

Hoffs was considering a response when Hanson suddenly tensed. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into a nearby empty classroom. Judy could just barely hear footsteps coming down the hallway—quietly, softly. _How did he—?_

The footsteps reached the classroom door. Before Judy could ask what they should do, Tom's mouth was on hers—and just in time, too, for a quick cover, since the classroom door had opened.

Someone cleared their throat loudly behind them. Judy was glad when Tom moved away. It wasn't like that meant anything, right?

She dashed away her thoughts and turned her eyes on the person in the doorway. Much to her embarrassment, it was a teacher.

"Okay you two, back to class," he said. "I don't plan on seeing any more PDA than necessary."

"Yes, sir," Hanson replied.

Judy raised an eyebrow. Tom was being too polite for his cover. She coughed lightly.

Hanson sent her a confused look. She glared pointedly in response. His face cleared and he shrugged before walking out, giving the teacher a pat on the back. "Nice knowin' ya, teach."

Hoffs snickered at the look on the older man's face. The teacher swung toward her and snapped, "You think this is funny, Ms.—"

"Johnson," she supplied. "My friends call me J.J." Judy gave him an insolent wave and smile and walked past him. "Later."

She was gone before the teacher could reply and had quickly caught up with Hanson. Judy hissed, "What were you thinking?" in his ear.

Tom stopped walking and faced her. "It was the only reason I could think of on the spot, okay?" He smirked. "Besides, I've been wanting to do that since I first met you."

His smirk turned into a wince as her palm left red streaks on his cheek. "Hanson, you are a dog, you know that?"

"A wolf, actually. I turn into a wolf."

She rolled her eyes. "Whatever. Now let's go." Taking his hand, Judy began walking down the hallway, tensing when the bell signaling the end of lunch rang. It did not take long for the school to become flooded with students.

* * *

Tom's cheek stung where Judy had slapped him, but the pain was already fading. Eyes sweeping across the faces of the teens crowding the hallway, he stiffened when he saw dark blue eyes framed by black hair. A growl rose in his throat. He could practically feel his wolf form—tail between legs, hackles raised—hovering over him.

"What do you think you're doing?" Hoffs hissed, her hand on his shoulder, holding him back.

Hanson stopped growling abruptly. "Don't ask me. I don't even know myself, Jude." He took his eyes off Mason for a moment to look at his partner, unable to read her expression. The scent of the other 'wolf was much closer. Tom looked back at where he'd last seen the junior and jumped: the kid was right in front of them, leaning against a locker. He snapped, "What do you want?"

Mason raised an eyebrow at Judy. "Friendly, isn't he?"

The female undercover cop shrugged. "Just answer the question."

A smirk crawled across Mason's face. "Word around school is he's a cop."

Tom rolled his eyes. Remembering what Jenko had told him, he said, "Yeah, it's what I'm gonna be for Halloween. You satisfied?" He started to move around Mason, but the dark 'wolf blocked his path. Folan said, "Hey, look, I know a guy who runs a club in town. It's open to teens tonight. You and your girlfriend want to come?"

"She's not my girlfriend," Tom corrected automatically, not looking at Judy.

"Huh. You could've fooled me. So, are you coming or not?"

"We'll be there," Judy said, her hand encircling Hanson's upper arm. He shot her a "what-are-you-doing?" look, but she ignored it.

"Great." Mason's smile didn't quite reach his eyes. "It's that new place on 2nd, the Burnout. See you at eight." He walked away as the bell for third lunch rang.

Tom was relieved when Judy relaxed her hold. "Nicely played. Now we know how to get close to him."

"Thanks," she replied. "I can see why you're scared of him, though."

"Glad to hear it."

She smiled briefly. "Better tell Jenk after school what we're doing tonight. This is gonna be fun."

"Jude, we're on a case."

"I know, Tom. See ya later. I'd better get to class. Coach Lee hates it when we're late for gym."

"Okay. See you." As Judy started to walk away, he thought with a wicked grin, _This is going to be a fun night._


	14. Chapter 14

The rest of the school day was relatively uneventful, save for a fight in the boys’ locker room. Hanson was relieved that the other students had stopped giving him funny looks, but apparently Alyssa and David had told their friends what had happened at Rocket Dog, and their friends had told their friends . . . Tom wasn’t too worried about the rumors, Halloween being as close as it was. He was more worried about the alpha and Mason Folan.

Hanson was currently hanging out in the school parking lot by his Mustang, eyes closed, and concentrating on different clusters of students, listening in on conversations. After “station hopping” from a girl talking to her friend to a group of jocks, he heard a couple of familiar voices.

_“Come on, Alyssa. You’re not gonna chicken out on me, are you?”_

_“David, I think you’re nuts. There’s no way Tom is a werewolf!”_

_“Hey, you saw the fangs as well as I did. Not to mention the growling. Did that sound like a wolf to you? ‘Coz it sure did to me.”_

_“Just drop it, okay? Besides, he’s right there. He can probably hear you.”_

Tom’s eyes snapped open. He could see David and Alyssa a couple yards away, the latter looking as if she would be anywhere else, the boy looking somewhat . . . actually, Tom didn’t know what word would describe David. He just watched as the dark-haired senior came closer. It was highly doubtful the boy knew anything about the murder, but a fistfight would feel good.

“You need something?” Tom asked casually.

Alyssa jumped and let out a little squeak. The ’wolf could smell the fear on her, and he felt slightly guilty. David, on the other hand, shared no such feelings. He answered, “Yeah. I got a bone to pick with you.”

Hanson rolled his eyes. “One: I don’t have time for this crap. Two: that sounds like a line from a really bad movie. Back off, okay?”

Of course, the kid decided to take a step forward and swing. Tom ducked it easily and socked David in the stomach. David doubled over, face contorted in pain, then stood and aimed a fist at Tom’s abdomen. The cop blocked it and, grabbing a fistful of the senior’s shirt, flipped their positions and slammed David down on his Mustang.

“You done?” he snarled in the boy’s ear. “Or would you rather I kicked your tail even more?”

“Let me up, man. I’m done. I won’t bother you again.”

“Good.” Hanson released him, watching with cool satisfaction as David and Alyssa stumbled over each other as they booked it across the lot.

Hoffs came up and leaned against the Mustang. “What was that about? Those two look like they saw a ghost.”

“It’s nothing,” Tom answered. “He came at me, so I had to kick his tail. You ready to leave?”

She blinked: her version of complete astonishment. “Uh, sure. I’ll follow you.”

“Sounds good to me.”

* * *

Captain Jenko was playing his guitar when Tom and Judy walked in. Doug and Harry were upstairs in the locker room, or so Hanson could tell from their scent.

“Hey, you two,” Jenk said. “What’s up?”

“We’re going to a club tonight,” Tom blurted without preamble.

“WHAT?” The shout came from Doug and Harry, who slid down the pole. They stared open-mouthed at Tom and Judy. Then Doug pumped his fist into the air. “Oh, yes! I am _so_ there.”

“No, you’re not!” Judy exclaimed. “This is _our_ case, Penhall!”

“Your point?”

“Mason thinks only Tom and I will be there. If everyone goes, he’ll suspect something’s up.”

“But—”

“She’s right,” Tom interrupted.

Doug turned on him. “Who asked you?”

Tom felt his lips curl in a snarl. “Who said you could butt in on our case?” He allowed his canines to sharpen enough to make Penhall think he was imagining things, but not enough to give himself away. Judy was the only one he trusted with his secret at the moment.

His best friend’s mouth opened for a furious retort, but Jenko cut in with, “Quit it, you three. Have you forgotten you’re not actually teenagers?”

There was silence from the squabbling officers, while Harry was trying not to laugh. After surveying Tom, Judy, and Doug, the captain continued, “Sorry, Penhall, but Hoffs and Hanson are going in.”

Tom grinned. “Thanks, Captain.”

“Just behave yourself. And remember: no bust. We still don’t know who the perp is yet.”

“Got it, Coach,” Tom said, exchanging an excited look with Judy.

Doug saw the look and sighed. “Why didn’t I get this assignment?”

No one had an answer for him.

* * *

For the next two hours, the team just hung out. Penhall had discovered the jukebox in the corner actually worked, and he was blaring rock music. Tom didn’t care much for his friend’s taste in bands, but he did like Bon Jovi.

He was sitting at the table, scribbling down notes in a notebook, when he felt someone sit down on the table. Even without looking, he knew who it was. “Yeah, Jude?”

“It’s seven o’clock. Don’t we have to be at the Burnout at eight?”

“Yeah. So?”

“So, we have to decide what we’re going to wear. Have you ever been to a nightclub, Hanson?” A second later, she said quickly, “Don’t answer that. I think I already know the answer.”

Tom glanced down at his jeans, black T-shirt, and leather jacket. In a slightly insulted tone, he asked, “What’s wrong with this?”

 Judy rolled her eyes. “Has Penhall taught you nothing?”

“Hey!” Doug protested indignantly. “That hurt, Judy.”

“I’m bleeding with sympathy,” she snapped. Judy then returned to Hanson, surveying him with a critical eye. The werewolf felt rather like he was on display in a museum. At last, Judy said, “Well, I suppose the jeans and shirt are okay, but you’re going to have to ditch the jacket.”

“But Judy—” he whined.

“Just do it, Hanson,” Harry said. “If you don’t, she’ll make your life miserable.”

Tom sighed. “Okay. What are you wearing?” he asked his female partner.

She grinned, and he could smell excitement and anticipation coming off her in waves. “You’ll see.”

With that, Judy vanished upstairs. She was back down ten minutes later. Eyes turned on his partner, Tom gave a low whistle. “You look great, Jude.”

He meant it. The female officer was wearing black pantyhose, a black miniskirt, white halter top, and her denim jacket with the gold decorations. It left very little to Tom’s imagination.

“Thanks, Hanson,” she replied. “You ready?”

“Yeah.”

“Good luck, you two,” Harry said.

“Have fun, peaches,” Jenko told Judy.

“Oh, we will,” Tom said. He slung his arm over Judy’s shoulder as they walked outside. “You wanna take the Mustang?” he asked.

“Sure,” Judy answered.

* * *

Mason Folan was waiting for them outside the club when they arrived. He said, “Glad you could make it,” but his eyes were on Judy. Tom forced down the growl rising in his throat.

Judy only nodded and linked her arm through Tom’s. He knew Mason thought they were dating, so he understood why she did it. It wasn’t their original cover, but Tom could work with it.

“So,” he began, “are we going in or not?”

“You lead,” Mason said, opening the door to the club.

Flashing a quick look at Judy, Tom stepped inside. Mason shut the door behind them.

Tom’s first impression was sound and lights. The club was spacious, had fluorescent lights, and was full of dancing teens. Music blared from a hidden sound system, starting a new song. Hanson recognized it as being from an LP released in 1980, seven years ago. He thought, _Here we go._

“Come on, Tom,” Judy said. “Let’s dance.” She pulled him through the crowd away from Mason and brought her body close to his as she moved to the hard rock rhythm.

_“Lookin’ for a teenage, lookin’ for a teenage overdose. Lookin’ for a good time. Ready for a bad time. Comin’ so close._

_“Lookin’ for a teenage, lookin’ for a teenage comatose. If you’re lookin’ for some rock ‘n’ roll, lookin’ for some rock ‘n’ roll I’ll give you a dose._

_“One foot in hell. One foot in hell and you know the other’s got to be walkin’ with the devil and settin’ him free . . .”_

Tom glanced around nervously. As he turned his head, he caught a whiff of his dancing partner’s scent. It suddenly became hard to concentrate on the case, even with Mason close by. His eyes flitted over her face, the curve of her neck, and then down her body. His tongue flicked out, wetting his dry lips.

_“. . . You’re lookin’ for a cover. Don’t wanna tell your mother. I know you’re out there. You’re an underground lover._

_“One foot in hell, and you know the other’s gonna go for you and me at the end of the show. One foot in hell . . .”_

The song brought Hanson out of his daze. He also felt someone tapping a finger on his shoulder. Tom turned around and jumped. “How’d you get here?”

John Bryant shrugged his shoulders. “Nice to see you too, Henderson. Hi there, J.J. In answer to your question, my pa—” He broke off, looking uncertainly at Judy.

“It’s okay,” Tom assured him. “She knows.”

John looked like he was going to say something about that, changed his mind, and continued, “My pack leader sprung me.”

“Pack leader?” Judy echoed.

“I’ll tell you later,” Hanson whispered in her ear.

“Oh, okay.”

Tom started to turn his head back to focus on John when he saw a flash of silver out of the corner of his eye. He cried, “Hit the deck!” and shoved both Judy and John down to the floor with him. The knife embedded itself to the hilt in a nearby column.

“Hey, dude, I think you can get off me,” came John’s muffled voice.

“Oh, sorry.” Tom scrambled off the dealer, releasing his hold on Judy as well. “Just stay down.”

“What just happened?” Judy asked, rubbing her neck.

“I don’t know,” Tom said, “but we’re gonna find out.” _Hopefully before I end up dead._

 _“. . . Lookin’ for a teenage, lookin’ for a teenage overdose. Lookin’ for a good time. Ready for a die time. Comin’ so close . . .“_   


	15. Chapter 15

"Can we get up now?" John asked, starting to roll back onto his haunches.

"Stay down," Tom hissed.

"We don't know if they're still here," Judy added.

Bryant gave a feral smile. "There is another option." He glanced at Tom, and the cop knew immediately what the beta was thinking. "Are you nuts?" he hissed. "What if someone sees us shift?"

"Wow, I knew you were a reluctant werewolf, but I didn't know you were _this_ reluctant.

Hanson flashed fangs at him. "All right. I'm not happy about it, but I'll do it."

Judy, meanwhile, was studying the knife embedded in the pillar. "Hey, I'm no knife expert, but this looks like it's made of silver. Aren't you guys affected by it?"

John couldn't hold back his laughter. When he'd recovered, he said, "No, we're not. If it's wolfsbane, then we're in trouble."

"Oh. I guess the thing about silver is totally Hollywood then, huh?"

"You got it," John said, beginning to remove his clothes. Then he was gone and the 'wolf was in his place.

"I really don't like this," Hanson muttered.

<Hey, come on, man. You wanted another lesson, didn’t you?>

"Yeah, but not here."

Judy looked at him in surprise. "Uh, Tom, are you— Oh, God. You can read minds?" She glared at the golden 'wolf, who nodded. Tom added, "Yes, but only with other werewolves, and even then one of us has to be in 'wolf form. And John, shift back. You're drawing attention."

<Yes, o wise cop,> the teen replied, a hint of sarcasm in his thought-speak voice.

"Hey, don't look at me in that tone of voice," was all Hanson could think of to say at the wolf's reproachful look. Then John was human again. Dressing quickly, he said, "Really? 'Don't look at me in that tone of voice'? What's that supposed to mean?"

Tom shrugged. "Beats me. Let's just get out of here. I don't want to be shish-ka-bob any more than you do, and besides, we have some questions we want to ask you."

"We?" Then John's expression cleared. "Oh, great. She's a cop, too?"

"Afraid so," Judy said. "Now let's beat it." She began making her way through the crowd, the two guys on her tail.

Once they were outside and hidden in the shadows, John faced the two cops, his arms folded across his chest. For the first time, Hanson noticed the teen was dressed in all black, as what seemed to be John's usual choice of color. "Okay, so what exactly are you guys doing in my school?"

The look Hoffs sent him told Tom to go first. "We were sent in there to buy drugs, and now that that case is apparently over, we're trying to find out who raped and murdered Ashley Myers. While we're on the subject, who do you think put the drugs in your locker?"

The junior shifted his weight from one foot to the other, but said nothing.

Judy broke in impatiently. "Look, I'm guessing you know who stashed the drugs. Maybe a friend, maybe a—"

"Packmate," Tom said, his eyes boring into the beta. "Mason's the only member of your pack who knew we were here."

The smile John gave him was dangerous and feral. "It's your pack, too. Face it, Tom, you _need_ us. Lone 'wolves generally don't last long. And with our pack mentality . . . let's just say it's the nature of the beast."

Horror made Hanson's blood run cold. He recoiled, shaking his head. "No. You're wrong. I'm not like you." He was vaguely aware of Judy resting a comforting hand on his shoulder and he leaned into her, allowing her scent to wreathe around him.

John only studied him for a moment more, then shrugged. "You'll join us eventually, Henderson. If that's even your real name."

Tom bristled. "You wouldn't dare blow our covers."

"Why would I do that?" Now, come on. You do want more training, don't you?"

Hanson flashed a glance at Judy, who was thankfully keeping her cool, before saying, "Yes."

"Great. Let's go. Same place as last night." John melted into the shadows before Tom could say anything. He started to follow the beta, but Judy put a restraining hold on his arm. She said, "Last night? You've done this before?"

"Well, just last night. He's been helping me train, you know, control my 'wolf. If you don't want to come, Judy, you don't have to."

"I'm coming," she said in a voice that meant resistance was futile.

Tom sighed, put an arm across her shoulders even as she rested a hand on his lower back, and started walking towards the Mustang. As they sat inside the car, he saw that Judy had grabbed the knife that almost killed them. It was good thinking. Hopefully forensics could pick up something that would help them. Tom pulled out, heading towards University Park.

Behind them, Mason Folan watched the Mustang's red taillights fade into the distance. A smile ghosting across his face, he shifted forms and followed, a shadow cloaked in darkness. He had to find out if they were on to him. If they were . . . well, Judy would make a beautiful wolf. Mason growled and snapped his powerful jaws, jaws that could easily crush a moose's skull. He'd already killed once, and wouldn't hesitate to do it again.


	16. Chapter 16

When Tom and Judy exited Hanson’s Mustang, they saw John already there. Much to Tom’s relief, the teen was in human form and was leaning against his dirt bike, arms folded over his chest.

John shoved off the bike and waited as the two cops walked over. “What’s she doing here?” he asked, extending an index finger at Judy.

Tom merely shrugged and said, “She wanted to come. Trust me, when Judy wants something, you don’t stand a chance trying to persuade her differently.”

“And I just wanted to see Tom in his ’wolf form,” Judy said. At Hanson’s WTH look, she defended, “Hey, you are good-looking anyway, and you’re gorgeous in your fur.”

Hanson was feeling uncomfortable, something Bryant must have been too, since the junior cleared his throat and said, “Let’s get moving, shall we?” Then he started heading deeper into the park at a run, removing his clothes as he did so. There was a quick shimmer, and the brown-gold ’wolf was in his place. _Well, Tom? You coming?_

Tom flashed a look at Judy, shrugged, and started sprinting, discarding clothing with each quickening stride. He leaped into the air, concentrated, felt a ripple pass through him . . .

When he hit the ground, he was ’wolf. As always, he was amazed at the wealth of information his senses brought him. Glancing back at Officer Hoffs, Hanson could sense her wonder, awe . . . and something else. What was it? He tilted is head and breathed deeply, trying to identify the emotion. Tom was so absorbed in that he didn’t notice that Judy was approaching him or that John was trying to focus his attention by sinking his fangs into his tail. Finally the pain registered and he let out a yelp. Whirling on the beta, he bared his teeth and snarled, mentally and physically. <What was that for?>

John’s green eyes gazed back at him from the golden-furred face. <I need you to concentrate, you idiot! Quit eyeing J.J. like she’s your mate and tell me what you smell.>

Obediently, Tom inhaled deeply. <Judy, you, me, squirrels—hey, I’m suddenly hungry—trees, and— Hold it. My mate? What do you mean by that?>

John gave a very derisive sneeze, the kind of sneeze that meant _You’re kidding me_ in a very sarcastic way. <Seriously? I’ve seen the way you look at her, dude. Is she ’wolf?>

<Uh, NO! And she’s not my mate. We’re not even dating. Would you please explain the concept to me?>

John’s lips crinkled in a silent wolf laugh and, ducking his head, he placed a paw over his muzzle. <It’s really rather self-explanatory, don’t you think? Just so you know, we mate for life. Once a male finds his mate, he has an ink on his shoulder representing her name in the ancient language of our pack. It ensures we don’t choose lightly. Of course, we bite either to kill or to turn a prospective mate. Although, turning you was out of the question, but we do need you in our pack, Tom.>

<Just back up a bit _, > _Hanson said, raising a forepaw. <I thought a pureblood female didn’t become a werewolf unless she . . . uh . . . did it with one.>

 _<_ Well, yes,> John replied, <but that’s with purebloods, not newbloods. And there are silverbloods—>

 _<_ Silverbloods?> Tom asked.

<Those who are hard to turn. You weren’t one of them.>

<Oh.> Vaguely, Hanson was aware of Hoffs crouching beside him, of her running a hand through his fur. It felt good, really good. With her this close to him, he suddenly was able to recognize what had been bothering him earlier. Shock pounded through him as he realized it was desire he’d felt coming off of her. Whether it was wanting to be like him or sexual he had no idea, but it unnerved him slightly. If it was the former, why would she _want_ this ability? But if it was the latter . . .

John’s irritated growl cut into his thoughts. <Come on, Romeo. You can sort out your love life later. Right now we need to work on your fighting skills. And we need to work on your control. I heard about what happened at Rocket Dog. If you shift in public, you’ll reveal our existence. There’s a reason we’re only remembered as myth and legend. We went into hiding for so long because when our existence was known, well-trained hunters were charged with destroying us. Some still do, actually. The point is—>

<I get it,> Tom interrupted. The fur on the back of his neck rose, betraying his irritation. <Maybe you can tell me how I’m able to, oh say, make myself grow fangs when I’m in human form!>

The golden ’wolf gave a huff. <It’s complicated. Yes, we go full wolf, but, as you’ve noticed, we can pull on certain components of our ’wolf form—teeth, claws. Not the eyes, since those stay the same in whichever form we’re in, and forget about the ears. That would just be creepy.>

<Okay, so—>

A low, rumbling growl sounded nearby, and Tom felt Judy’s fingers curl and dig into his pelt. He thought, <Please tell me that was your stomach.>

<Nope.>

<Didn’t think so.> Tom turned around in time to see the black ’wolf crouching at the edge of the trees, teeth bared in a silent snarl.

<Oh crap. How’d he follow us without us knowing?>

<He must have shifted _, > _John replied, giving the most logical answer.

<That makes sense.>

<No duh.>

Hanson’s hackles rose as the black ’wolf—Mason—slunk closer, his blue gaze locked on Hoffs. Mason’s silence was unnerving. Why didn’t he say something?

<Like what?> Folan’s voice broke into Hanson’s thoughts, his mental voice scathing. <“Tell me what you know or the girl gets it”? Ri-ight. Judy _would_ make a beautiful ’wolf, though, don’t you think? >

 _<_ Mason—,> John began, but Tom didn’t hear him. Releasing a growl of his own, he launched himself at the black werewolf.

Mason leaped to meet him and the two collided in midair. Jaws snapping, Tom managed to tear a clump of fur out of the other ’wolf’s shoulder before they landed and broke apart.

“Tom, no!” he heard Judy cry, but the words barely registered. He felt alive, every cell brimming with energy. It was slightly distracting, because he kept zoning out from time to time, adjusting to fighting in his ’wolf body. All the strength was there, but he had no idea how to use it. Mason, however, being more used to his werewolf form, had no such inhibitions. Instinctively, Hanson knew his opponent would go for the throat if the opportunity presented itself. Tom really didn’t want that to happen, since the paperwork took forever and he wasn’t sure what the M.E. would rule the cause of death. All he knew was that he couldn’t let Mason change Judy. Circling his opponent, he waited for the other werewolf to strike first.

Suddenly there was a flash of gold and John stood between the dark ’wolves. <Stop!> he ordered, stiff-legged, tail raised, green eyes blazing. <Mason, as your beta, I’m ordering you to quit fighting and to tell us what you’re doing here. Tom, try not to kill him. He’s pack. So are you.>

 _<_ But he was going to bite Judy,>Tom protested in private thought-speak, fully aware that he sounded like a ten-year-old. He didn’t care.

If wolves could roll their eyes, Hanson could swear that John did. <Shift back, both of you,> he said in open thought-speak. <Mason, I think there’s a stash of clothes somewhere around here.>

Without a word, the night-colored werewolf trotted off, while the beta and undercover cop padded over to their discarded piles of clothing. Back in human form and dressed, they returned to the clearing where Judy was waiting. The apprehension in her eyes, not to mention her tense body language, struck a chord in Tom. He wanted to make sure she was okay, to comfort her, but he couldn’t do that in the presence of other ’wolves. Or, really, in front of his friends at Jump Street.

“What are you doing here?” John asked Mason, breaking into Hanson’s thoughts. He’d folded his arms over his chest and was glaring at his packmate.

The raven-haired junior met the beta’s cool green gaze defiantly for a moment before he had to look away. Sullenly, he said, “I wanted to see how much you knew.”

“About what?” Judy queried, speaking up for the first time since the three guys had shifted.

All three lycanthropes stared at her. She fidgeted, and Tom could see her sudden discomfort. Focusing a hard gaze on their suspect, he said, “Answer the question.”

Folan clammed up, refusing to speak until the beta werewolf gave a warning growl. “Okay, okay!” he exclaimed. “I wanted to see how much you knew about Ashley’s death.”

“Why do you want to know?” John asked him. “What’s your interest in the case?”

“Uh, well . . .”

“Relax, man,” Hanson said. “We don’t know any more than you do.” That was a lie, of course. No way was he telling Folan that he and Judy suspected him. Tom had a hunch that that was why Mason had followed them: to see if they were onto him. If he knew they thought he was the perp, he’d made it quite clear that he would turn Hoffs. “How about we just go home? I don’t know about you, but it’s been a long day for me.”

“Same here,” Hoffs said. “See you guys at school.”

With that, she strode toward Tom’s Mustang, her werewolf partner at her side. Neither of them looked back.

* * *

Tom parked outside Judy’s apartment and turned toward her, one arm resting across the back of her seat. She looked at him expectantly. He said, “You don’t have to go in. Come over to my place tonight.”

“What’s it matter to you?”

Ouch. Tom tried a different tack. He pleaded, “Then let me stay here.” At her doubtful look, he added, “I just don’t think you should be alone, Jude.”

“Why?”

“Jude, Mason was going to bite you, turn you. I couldn’t let—”

“Okay, Hanson, you can come in.” Judy was already climbing out. “You owe me an explanation anyway.”

Yes, he did, and boy, didn’t he know it. Exhaling deeply, he followed her inside.


	17. Chapter 17

Tom shut the door behind him and glanced around Judy's apartment. It came as no surprise that it was practically spotless.

"Nice place."

"Thanks," Judy replied, entering the kitchen. She leaned against the counter, legs crossed, arms folded over her chest. "I'm waiting, Hanson."

He sighed and walked over, raking his fingers through his hair. "Where do I begin?" The 'wolf slouched next to Judy, tilting his head to the right as he looked at her.

"How about why you've been meeting with one of our suspects in secret."

"I told you, he's been helping me with my 'wolf side. We only started last night. And, well, we'd made a deal."

Tom sensed Judy tense up. "What kind of deal?" Her voice was wary, suspicious even. Somehow, he wasn't surprised, but it did hurt. It shouldn't, but it did.

"Hanson?" Judy asked when his silence lengthened. "What kind of deal?"

"He agreed to train me, but only if I joined his pack."

"So that's what he meant when he said they needed you."

"Yeah, but I don't want to be with them, Jude." A low growl escaped him. "I don't even want to be a werewolf. Talk about issues, huh?" Eyes searching her face, he gave a rueful smile.

He sort of expected Judy to back away, but instead she let her hands fall to her sides and placed her left hand over his right. "I guess you could say that," she said, lips twitching. At Hanson's look, she burst into laughter—which sent him chuckling, too. Seconds later, he was sober, as was she. This wasn't exactly a situation where humor was appropriate . . . but it did help.

"What am I going to do?" Tom asked. "Telling the others would be a really bad idea."

"Yeah, Penhall would try to make you the star of a horror movie. Hey, speaking of movies, it's Friday night."

Tom stared. "Friday? Oh, no, I missed it! It's my bowling night, and we had a big game . . ."

He bared his teeth at Judy when he saw she was shaking with barely suppressed laughter. "It's not funny!"

"Yes, it is," she choked out. "A werewolf and cop who thinks bowling's an actual sport. I've never heard anything more ridiculous."

"Well, here's something that's not," Tom snapped. "Mason, as I said earlier, was going to turn you 'wolf, Jude."

The blood drained from her face. "So that's why you attacked him."

Tom nodded, and winced as the fabric of his shirt scraped against the bitemarks on his shoulder. How could he have not noticed them before? He nudged the collar down a little to see how bad it was.

Judy's eyes followed the movement and widened when she saw the scratches. "You're hurt." Her right hand came up and skimmed over the spot on Tom's shoulder where one of Mason's fangs had caught him. The movement also had her shifting her position so she was standing in front of him. She was close enough that he could breathe in her scent, and a tiny tremor shivered up and down Tom's spine. _No. I can't._

"Yeah," he said in answer to her rather obvious observation. "Trust me, you don't want this life. And there was no way I was going to let you become lupine. I care about you, Jude." _Maybe more than I should._

"We need to see how bad it is," she said, but he'd seen in her eyes that she knew what he hadn't said. Already her hands were tugging the hem of his black shirt out of the waistband of his jeans.

Tom placed one of his hands over hers, stopping her from lifting his shirt any higher. "Why don't we, um, do this in the living room?" he suggested.

"Oh, uh, yeah. Sure." Judy removed her hands and started walking toward the bathroom. She called over her shoulder, "I'm going to get ointment and stuff for your scratches."

"Figured."

She pulled a face and continued on her way.

While she was gone, Tom meandered into the living room. A stack of records on a bookshelf caught his eye, and he crouched down to have a better look. One record in particular caught his attention, and he slid it out from its place. Straightening, he turned at the sound of Judy's footsteps.

She stopped dead, something akin to embarrassment flashing across her face. Tom smirked and held up the record. "I never figured you for a Loverboy fan, Jude."

"I-I'm not," she stammered. "A friend of mine brought it over, and I keep forgetting to return it."

He raised an eyebrow. "Su-ure."

Judy looked like she was going to continue the discussion, but she apparently changed her mind. She pointed at the couch. "Sit."

"Hang on." He slid the record out from its holder and placed it on the turntable, setting it up to play before he plopped down on the couch. The record was halfway through side B from what he could tell.

"Really, Hanson?"

He smirked. "Why not?"

She sighed. "Let's just have a better look here, see what we've got." Her hands were at the end of his shirt, lifting it up even as she spoke. Judy drew it up over his head and set the crumpled shirt on the floor. (He'd already taken off the jacket and hung it on the back of one of the kitchen chairs.) Her eyes locked onto the wounds on this shoulder, and she let out an involuntary gasp. "Oh, Hanson."

He glanced down. It didn't look that bad to him, but what did he know about animal attacks? They would scar, since bites from another werewolf took longer to heal. "It doesn't look that bad."

"I'm still cleaning it out." The look on her face told him not to argue. One of her hands rested on his bare shoulder, while the other had some gauze witih rubbing alcohol on it. "This is going to sting," she warned. "And we don't want it getting infected, do we?"

"No," Hanson mumbled. He let out a faint hiss as the alcohol mixed with the open wounds. To help distract himself, he kept his eyes on Judy, watching her as she worked. She'd changed out of the clothes she'd worn to the club, which was somewhat of a disappointment. He would have enjoyed getting her out of that outfit.

 _What's wrong with you?_ Tom scolded himself. _This is_ Judy . . .

And that was the problem.

Judy's hands had now left his shoulder and were skimming over his torso, checking for other wounds. "Hey, Tom, how come these haven't healed like the one the night you were bitten?"

"The 'wolf metabolism is faster, so we heal quickly in lupine shape unless we're attacked by another lycanthrope. I guess that night my body was adjusting. Does this make any sense?"

"Considering I found out a couple nights ago that werewolves exist and you're one of them, I guess so."

"I didn't want to believe it either, Jude. Now I don't have a whole lot of choice."

"Lean forward," was all she said.

"Why?" he asked, starting to become suspicious. He was getting the feeling that she was enjoying this . . . but so was he.

"Did he get your back?" Jude countered.

"Uh, I don't think so, no. Are you done yet?"

He sensed her hands still. It took her a couple of seconds to say, "Uh, yes," as if she'd forgotten the reason she was skimming her hands and fingers over his bare torso. Her cool touch lifted, and Tom snatched his shirt and drew it over his head again. The newblood smirked. "You enjoy yourself?"

"Oh, get over yourself, Hanson," Hoffs retorted.

"And you're back to calling me Hanson," he muttered.

Judy looked at him blankly. "What?"

"You call Penhall and Ioki by their first names, but not me."

"Really? I never noticed."

Tom would have said some sarcastic reply, but he was suddenly distracted by the playing record. "What album is this?" he asked absent-mindedly.

" _Get Lucky_ ," Judy answered in a distant kind of way.

Tom smirked again. "Really?"

She lightly punched his shoulder. "Shut up."

His smirk widened into a grin that faded when he suddenly caught some of the lyrics to the current song:

_What's a poor boy to do  
When he's fallen in love with you?  
Help me make it through the night  
Everything's gonna be all right, yeah_

_Oh, come on,_ Hanson thought. _I'm not really in love with Judy, am I?_ After a moment's consideration, he amended, _Okay, maybe I am. Now what am I supposed to do?_

Well, at least he could sort of identify with this song. It was almost like what he was thinking at the moment . . . _Dang it. Judy probably planned that._

 _But_ you're _the one who started playing the record,_ a little voice pointed out.

_Shut up._

"Hey, Tom, you okay?" Judy asked, her concerned voice bringing him back to earth.

"Sure," he said, straining to hear the next verse.

_Come to me deep in the night  
Look at you, I feel all right  
Crazy little things you do  
Make me want to be with you tonight_

After that, he tuned out. The lupine found he was eyeing Judy, mostly her throat. His 'wolf bucked inside him, wrestling for control, eager for release. If he bit her, he could feed . . .

 _No!_ Sickened with himself, Tom rose to his feet and circled the couch, wanting to put some distance between him and Judy. But a now-familiar heat was coursing through him . . . He crouched down onto all fours, panting.

"Tom?" Judy asked in concern. "What's wrong?"

He glanced up at her, his eyes a faint yellow—the mark of the lupine. Hanson heard her faint gasp of horror; then the change was on in full flow. Dark brown fur covered his body; his hands and feet became paws; mouth and nose lengthed into a muzzle full of dagger-sharp teeth. His bones burned white-hot as they refashioned themselves into sleek lupine form, clothes ripping as his rib cage and muscles expanded. All this in the blink of an eye.

Twisting his head around, Tom snapped at the tattered remains of his jeans. They fell away like the last remants of his human form, and all that had been Hanson was consumed by 'wolf.

A low, keening cry echoed around him, and it vaguely clicked that the whining was his. Tom immediately stopped and looked somewhat apprehensively at Judy, fearing her reaction. Surely she wouldn't want to be around him now. Yet again, her facial expression surprised him. She was certainly tougher than he gave her credit for.

Hoffs went around the couch and cruched in front of the 'wolf. Tom's ears went flat against his head and he shrank away, tail brushing the ground. He relaxed slightly when she combed her fingers through his fur.

"It's okay, Hanson," she soothed. "Can you shift back?"

Being this close to her was just taunting his 'wolf. Tom could feel himself starting to drool as he eyed her soft, vulnerable flesh. Shaking off his instincts, he tried to shift back into human form, but the lupine in him resisted. He growled softly in frustration and shook his head.

Judy sighed and rubbed a hand across her tired-looking face. "Well, we might as well get some sleep. You can curl up on the bed if you want."

 _What am I—a dog?_ Hanson thought. Although, he had to admit he liked the idea. He trotted into the bedroom and jumped up on the bed, circling a couple of times before he laid down, resting his head on his paws. After a few moments he tired of that position and burrowed under the covers. By the time Judy joined him, he was already asleep.

* * *

Judy's eyes opened the next morning onto the ceiling. Feeling another body in her bed, she turned and saw Tom—human again, and not wearing any clothes. Startled, she scurried away . . . and ended up landing on the floor. The crash woke Hanson, and he leaned over, dog tags dangling. "You okay, Jude?"

She glared up at him. "I thought you fell asleep as a 'wolf."

"I did. Guess my human self just asserted control again. Or maybe we can just retain our shape while we're sleeping. I'll ask John about it."

"Or not," Judy heard herself say. Her eyes were busy looking him over. Mmm, he sure was fine.

Tom frowned slightly as he noticed where her eyes were wandering. A spark of gold spun in his dark brown eyes and he curled an upper lip to show fangs. "What?"

Her tongue flicked out and wet her suddenly dry lips. "Nothing. You hungry? I make a mean omlette."

He nodded. Judy ducked out to the living room and grabbed the remains of his clothes, then returned to her room and tossed them at him. "Get dressed first."

Tom smiled and shook his head good-naturedly. "You know, I think I love you, Jude."

"Run that by me again," she said, startled.

His smile turned into a smirk. "You heard me."

Pondering over it for a few seconds, she let out a huff and went into her closet. After dressing quickly, she headed out into the kitchen, hooking a finger at Hanson as a signal for him to follow.

He did. "Do you have any ham and cheese for that omlette?"

"Hanson, just shut up and let me cook."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I would have had this up sooner, but I didn't have Internet access for the last two days because . . . well, you don't need to know that, right? Right. Anyway, not real sure where I was going for this chapter. I guess I was just in a fluffy kind of mood, mixed in with horror . . . and listening to too much of a certain Canadian rock group from the '80s. :D Song in this is "Take Me to the Top", by the way.
> 
> For those of you who live in the US, what's your opinion on the new _21 Jump Street_ movie that they've made? I personally can't believe that the writers made it a frickin' COMEDY. I mean, come on.


	18. Chapter 18

"Wow, you can really wolf it down—er, no pun intended," Judy said a few minutes later as the duo were eating breakfast.

"Oh, sorry," Hanson said, pausing a little to breathe and take a swig of apple juice. It was only 7:00 in the morning, but he was already starving. After the drink, he went back to attacking his food.

Hoffs just shook her head. "I don't think even Penhall eats that fast—and that's saying something."

The last bite of ham, eggs, and cheese disappeared down his gullet, to be followed by juice. Finished at last, he leaned back in his chair and studied his partner. "So, what are your thoughts on the case?"

Judy laughed softly. "You never quit being a cop, do you, Hanson?"

"Even now that I'm half wolf?"

That wiped any playfulness off her face. Serious now, a thoughtful expression came over her. "I think Mason's our main suspect. Of course, we're going to have to verify eyewitness accounts—"

"We already know he was the last one seen with our victim," Tom reminded her.

"We know they left the dance together," Judy corrected. "We have no idea what happened after they left."

"Well, we know she was intoxicated, raped, and murdered. If we can prove he bought the liquor, and get a DNA sample. . . ." Tom shrugged.

Judy stared. "Why didn't we think of that before?"

"The autopsy results came in yesterday, remember?"

"Still."

Hanson was quiet for a moment; then he said, "You gonna give that knife to forensics?"

"Knife?"

"The one that nearly turned us into shish-ka-bob."

Her expression cleared. "Oh, right. With everything else going on, I forgot about that."

"Everything else going on." That's a nice way of putting this whole werewolf situation, Tom thought. He still wasn't sure about joining the werewolf pack. Maybe if, somehow, his condition was reversed, he and Judy could stand a chance. He'd only been half-joking earlier, but he'd meant what he'd said. And there were the emotions he'd sensed coming off her, not to mention the looks . . .

_Stop it. Focus on the case. Remember what happened the last time you became emotionally involved in a case? Jenko was furious._

Judy noticed his sudden quietness. "Tom?"

"Wha—? Oh, sorry, I was just thinking. So, drop off the knife at the lab geeks' place, then what, go to the Chapel and talk to Jenko?"

A mischievous look crossed Hoffs's face. "Or we can drop off the evidence and spend the rest of the day hanging out."

Hanson could think of several ways they could do that, and apparently Hoffs could, too. He smirked. "Doing what?"

"I'll leave that to your imagination." Judy rose, gathered the dishes, and put them in the dishwasher. When she straightened up and turned around, Tom was only inches away. As always, it amazed him that he could move so swiftly and silently. He didn't think he would ever get used to it. And, as whenever he was around her, he could feel his 'wolf rising . . . along with desire.

"Hanson . . .," Judy started, her voice trailing off.

He just softly pressed his lips to her forehead, as he had so many times before. Then he backed away. "I wouldn't force you, Jude."

"I know." Her voice came out barely more than a whisper. Then she gave herself a little shake, as if trying to chase away her thoughts. "Come on, let's get going." Judy slipped the knife from last night into a baggie, being careful not to smudge any fingerprints. Tom followed her out to the Mustang, and they climbed inside. The werewolf hit the gas, and they were off.

* * *

"So, now what?" Tom asked Judy after they handed the evidence over to forensics. The two exited the building and stepped out into the crisp October morning.

"Well, there are some books I've been meaning to check out at the library," she replied. Judy caught his sideways look and teased, "Unless you want to go bowling."

He considered it, shook his head. "No, the library sounds good to me."

Hoffs' eyes widened in disbelief. "Tom Hanson turning down a chance to go bowling? It's the end of the world as we know it! Are you feeling okay?" She pretended to check him for a fever. "You're okay, there's no fever."

"Knock it off," Hanson grumbled.

Hoffs leaned back in her seat. "Okay, okay. But honestly, I've never seen you _not_ want to go bowling."

Tom didn't say anything; he turned on the radio instead. Michael Jackson's "Beat It" blasted from the stereo, and he had to resist the urge to bang his head against the steering wheel as Judy started singing along.

It was with relief that he pulled into the library parking lot. Hoffs hopped out and walked quickly inside, while he followed at a more casual pace.

Once inside, Judy headed straight for the young adult books, while Tom decided to look at the mystery novels.

He had just pulled out a Sue Grafton book when he heard Judy approaching. The 'wolf slid _"B" is for Burglar_ back in place and turned to face her. "Yeah?"

"I found something I think you should see," she said, holding up a medium-sized book. Tom couldn't really see the title, but the cover had images of a witch, a vampire, a werewolf (the horror-movie kind), and what looked like a mummy. He just shrugged and followed her to an open table. Sitting down, he could see the book was called _Monsters: What and Why: The REAL Deal on Mummies, Witches, Werewolves, and Vampires._

Before he could protest, Judy opened it to the first page, titled, "Werewolves (Lycanthropy)". The opening words caught his interest, and he kept reading.

_Since ancient times, the cunning savagery of wolves has both terrified and awed the humans with whom they came into contact. In Europe, where wolves were a constant threat to livestock and (allegedly) to small children and lone travelers, legends as to their evil viciousness became widespread. Predictably, one of these legends involved humans who could transform themselves into wolves. These creatures were called werewolves (were means man), and the transformation became known as lycanthropy._

_**What—The Symptoms of Lycanthropy** _

_Descriptions of werewolves, and of the transformation process itself, have varied greatly throughout the ages. Some lycanthropes assumed the precise appearance of a wolf; others turned into something that was half-human, half-beast. Sometimes the change was permanent, sometimes lycanthropes could change form at will; sometimes environmental factors brought about the transformation. The symptoms and duration of a werewolf's condition depended entirely upon the "curse" that initiated that particular case of lycanthropy._

_In general, victims who were destined to alter their form permanently usually appeared pale. Fatigue was a frequent complaint, as well as weak vision, a dry tongue, and constant thirst. These symptoms usually accompanied, or were followed by, hair growth, especially on the face and hands. Fingernails grew long, and the eyes gradually changed shape and color._

"That's not what happens to me," Tom muttered.

Judy, who had also been reading, stopped and said, "Relax. It was written by a human, remember? I'm guessing all she had to go on were the legends, and, as mentioned, the legends vary."

Tom just sighed and continued reading.

_The victim's personality also changed; he (or she) became increasingly ill-tempered and aggressive. As the transformation grew more apparent, the victim usually went into hiding, returning to society only to satisfy its newfound appetite for human flesh._

_For "temporary" victims who could change their appearance at will, or who were involuntarily transformed by the sound of a wolf's nocturnal howl or by a full moon, lycanthropic symptoms occurred not over time, but quickly, almost instantaneously. They were forced to assume human shape again at sunrise either by shedding their hair, claws, and fangs, or by taking off their skin and hiding it intact. Such a lycanthrope would reportedly suffer the same fate as its skin; if it was found and destroyed, the werewolf would likely be destroyed._

_According to legend, those who voluntarily became werewolves obtained the ability to change their form through sorcery. Involuntary lycanthropes were people who had been cursed by someone they had wronged, or had been bitten by or born to a werewolf._

_Since there was no cure, and since most werewolves were thought to be immortal, these unfortunate beings were compelled to lead dark, desperate lives until they were felled by a fatal wound to the brain or heart (that they could only be destroyed by a silver bullet is a modern establishment)._

"Who wrote this?" Tom grumbled.

Judy flipped a couple of pages, replied, "A Paliki Vadas, University of Manhattan." Seeing his irritated look, she said, "Hey, it probably doesn't mean anything." Hoffs slammed the book shut and rose, ready to put it back on the shelf. She was back at the table a minute later, arms full of books. "I'm ready to check out."

Tom sighed and stood up. "How much time are you going to have to read those?"

"I'll find a way," she said, walking over to the checkout counter and placing her books in front of a friendly-looking librarian. After all six had been checked out, they headed to Hanson's Mustang.

"Where are we going now?" Judy asked as she clicked her seat belt into place.

"Hotel California," Tom replied, pulling out of the lot. "There's someone I have to see."

* * *

The run-down building was just as the two undercovers remembered. Hanson put the Mustang in Park, and they climbed out. He took in a deep breath, nostrils flaring as he scented the air. Yes, he—the alpha—was around here somewhere. But where?

"Uh, Tom, are you . . . scenting the air?"

"Yeah. We retain our 'wolf senses and skills in human form."

"So that's how you vaulted into my car from the driver's side the other night."

"Hey, I surprised myself, too. I just wanted to get away from those 'wolves."

"Same here. So, Wondernose, can you lead us to wherever this person is?"

"I think so." Tom started walking. "Come on."

Judy had to trot to catch up, but before long she was right beside him. Tom slowly opened the rusty, warped door, wincing as the hinges creaked in protest.

"All this place needs is a sign that says 'Condemned,'" Hoffs commented as they carefully stepped inside.

"Shh," Tom hissed. He strained his ears, listening for anything that would betray the alpha's presence. To his frustration, there was nothing he could hear except for Judy's ragged breathing.

"What is it?" Judy whispered.

He shook his head, growling softly. "I can't hear anything. And we don't want him to know we're here, remember?"

"So use your nose." Judy gingerly stepped past him and started picking her way among the debris. Hanson winced every time she stepped on a piece of glass, but since there was no way he was letting her out of his sight, he followed Officer Hoffs. As he did, he noticed the alpha's scent was growing stronger, leading upstairs.

Tom exchanged a glance with Judy, pointed at the stairs, nodded slightly, and pulled out his weapon. Hoffs drew her own gun, and they carefully ascended the rotting, wooden steps.

At the top, Tom paused and scented the air again. For a moment, he was confused: the scent had vanished. Or, at the very least, he couldn't pick up the trail again. "There's nothing here." Disappointed, but only slightly, he holstered his gun. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Judy do the same.

Hanson glanced around, rubbed the back of his head. "Well, we tried. Let's go." He started to turn when he felt the hair on the back of his neck prickle.

At the same time, a voice asked, "Are you looking for me?"


	19. Chapter 19

Heart in his throat, Hanson spun around, not at all surprised to find the werewolf alpha at the bottom of the stairs. He was aware of Hoffs resting a hand on her concealed weapon. Ever so slightly, he shook his head at her, his hand brushing hers in silent warning. A second later, he sensed she'd removed her hand from the gun. Eyes on the alpha, he gulped. "Uh . . . maybe. Who're you?"

The older man's green-gold eyes narrowed, amusement flickering in their depths. "I think you already know, considering you are one of us, omega."

"How'd you—?" Judy began, only to be silenced at a glare from Tom.

"You know how it is. 'Wolf can smell another 'wolf from a mile away," the alpha answered. His tongue wet his lips as he looked the female officer over, and Tom could see sharpening fangs. "Pretty thing, aren't you? You could be so much more if you'd take the bite."

At that, Hanson growled and leaped, tearing off his shirt and shifting in midair. He landed at the bottom of the stairs, hackles raised and his lips drawn back to show his teeth.

Judy swallowed hard. Even before he'd turned 'wolf, she'd seen Tom's eyes go faint yellow. Now his eyes would be their normal dark brown color, as she could see when he once again snapped at his already-tattered jeans.

Bile rose in her throat as the alpha casually looked up at her, interest in his green-gold eyes. "Protective, isn't he? Well, Tom, you _will_ join us. And if not . . ." He flashed fangs, his eyes now a sick yellow. Judy gasped with horror as he began to shift—and unlike Tom's transformation, there was nothing beautiful about it.

Long, coarse black hairs wormed their way out of pores in the skin even as fingernails grew and sharpened into claws. His features warped as a muzzle pushed itself out from his face, blood drooling from his gums as fangs made themselves known. Judy could hear the unnatural sound of bones cracking as the alpha bent forward, his internal structure adjusting to lupine shape. Shoes split apart as hands and feet became monstrous paws. Transformation complete, the 'wolf glared down at Tom. Judy had to hold in a moan of fear. He was big. Oh, man, he was huge. His teeth seemed longer, sharper, and he was maybe twice Hanson's size. And his eyes . . . they were yellow. When the 'wolf change came over Tom, the glow of the lupine shone briefly in his eyes before fading—something Judy had also noticed with the younger 'wolves. Tom's lupine form was beautiful in its own way, with his lustrous dark brown fur, deep chest, and lean, hard muscle. There was nothing of that in the monster that faced him now.

"Oh, be careful, Tom," she whispered.

* * *

Tom's sharp ears picked up Judy's whispered warning as he stared defiantly up at the alpha, a growl rumbling from deep in his throat. Breaking his aggressive stance, he leapt for the bigger werewolf, jaws snapping and closing on black fur. He hung on as the alpha spun around, trying to dislodge the undercover cop. Hanson's paws churned at the air as he tried to find a purchase. Finally the alpha bucked, loosing Tom's hold and sending him flying through space. He landed hard on some worn-out tables, knocking the wind out of his lungs. Dazed, he shook his head and struggled to rise.

As his vision cleared, he saw the glowing yellow eyes staring at him from a wall of black fur. Panic threatened to overwhelm him. What was he _doing_ , attacking a pack leader? Especially one that was twice his size?

 _Come on,_ a voice inside him screamed. _Use the 'wolf. Attack him. Remember what his beta did to you?_

Drool was dripping from between bared teeth as the alpha slunk closer to the hurt werewolf.

 _I'm_ not _going to die like this,_ Tom thought. He crouched, muscles tense, and dived off the table just as the larger lupine lunged. Thankfully, his teeth snapped shut on empty air. Hanson bolted, hoping that Hoffs had enough sense to stay out of this. If she tried to intervene, she'd most likely end up with a hole in her throat—or she'd become lupine.

He skidded to a halt when he reached a hallway that dead-ended. Tom whipped around, half-expecting to see the alpha coming for him. For a few seconds, there was nothing; then pale yellow eyes turned the corner.

_Oh crap. And why do I have "Thriller" playing in my head right now?_

_Probably because it applies to the situation,_ the alpha answered sarcastically. Much to Hanson's surprise, the bigger 'wolf sat down. _Now, as much as I would enjoy ripping you apart for attacking your pack leader, I want to know why you're here._

The Jump Street cop snarled. _I'm_ not _a member of your pack._

_You're right—at least, not until you leave your old pack, Officer Hanson._

Tom's eyes narrowed. _How'd you know?_

_I bailed John out, remember? He told me what had happened, and I did a little digging of my own. And by your old pack, I mean your friends. Why are you here in my territory?_

He really didn't want to answer, but when the alpha used that tone, Tom had to obey. _I was looking for you. I'm guessing you know who murdered Ashley Myers. Where were you on Monday night?_

_Home, alone. But . . . Manson did come by and ask for my help._

_With what?_

_Well—,_ the alpha started, but Tom stopped him by raising a forepaw. _Wait. This will have to wait until we're downtown._ He curled his upper lip in a silent warning. _And stay away from Judy._ Hanson brushed past the older werewolf. _By the way, why do you guys want me in your pack so bad?_

_Think, would you? It would be . . . useful . . . having a lupine in the police department. Maybe pull strings so signs of our . . . activities . . . aren't looked at too closely._

_John said something about hunters,_ Tom recalled.

 _Yes, and there are also just curious humans._ Hanson had to fight back a snarl as the alpha crowded him, shoving him against one of the walls. He pushed back, darting out range right before the yellow-eyed 'wolf could take a chunk out of his flank. Teeth clicked together on empty air, but the close call was aggravating Hanson's 'wolf aggression. He caught Judy's scent, and he immediately began to drool. The 'wolf was taking over, Tom Hanson slipping away.

He slunk up behind her, as silent as a shadow. As Judy was looking in the opposite direction and she'd descended the stairs, she had no idea he was right on her trail. All that rich, warm blood flowing through her veins . . . His tongue licked his lips, and as he crouched to spring, one of his paws cracked an already-shattered piece of glass.

Hoffs spun around, her hand flying to her gun. Then she saw him and relaxed slightly. "Tom? Is that you?"

His eyes on her throat, he licked his lips again hungrily.

Horrified realization dawned in her eyes. "Tom, no. Don't do this," she pleaded. "This isn't you, Tom, this isn't you!"

Dimly, the 'wolf became aware of another mental presence, one fighting for control. Tom's weary human mind was stunned, but quickly coming around. Horrified, he backed away, casting a glance over his shoulder at the alpha. Dark humor glittered in those sick yellow-green eyes. Shivering, he immediately averted his gaze.

"Okay," Hoffs ordered, "both of you, shift back. Now."

Suddenly loathing his lupine body, Hanson was all too eager to comply. Concentrating on an image of himself, the change back was effortless. Not so for the alpha. Even without turning around, Tom could hear bones grinding and snapping as they returned to human form, the lupine strength melting away. Both werewolves quickly clothed themselves and turned towards the female officer. Judy raised an eyebrow at the two of them and asked, "Now what?"

"Now we head to the chapel," Tom answered. "He has information that's vital to our case."

"In English, Hanson."

"He's gonna tell us what he knows about Mason's nocturnal activities on Monday. Come on." He started waling out, ushering the nameless alpha before him. "You, get in the car. Judy . . ." He turned to her, hoping she wasn't really mad about the fact that he'd almost eaten her. "I'm sorry. My 'wolf . . . sometimes it's hard to keep control. If there's—"

Hanson was silenced as she put a finger to his lips. "I know," she said before walking off, leaving him staring after her.

Somehow, he knew everything would be all right between them.


	20. Chapter 20

Captain Jenko stared in surprise when he saw Tom and Judy come into the chapel with a guy he'd never seen before. The stranger had short, cropped black hair, tan skin, a thin, pointy beard, and green-gold eyes that took in his surroundings with a somewhat lazy expression.

"Hanson, Hoffs," Jenko greeted his two officers. "Who's this?"

Officer Hanson opened his mouth to reply, shut it, and exchanged glances with Officer Hoffs, who shrugged. The stranger, with a small smile, said, "Jackson."

"Just Jackson, or do you have a last name?"

"Just Jackson." Was that a spark of gold in his eyes? The captain immediately reassured himself that he was imagining things. He asked Tom and Judy, "What's he doing here?"

"He says he has information on our homicide case," Hanson replied.

"And you brought him here instead of downtown because . . .?"

"Does it really matter?" Hoffs asked. "I mean, it's not like we haven't brought guys in here before."

"Yeah," Hanson agreed.

Jenko sighed in resignation. "Okay, but Tom, you're the one questioning him."

Hanson grinned wolfishly before turning to Jackson. He was going to love this. "Okay, so you tell us what happened the night of the murder. Mason had come by your place . . ."

"Yeah, he said he needed help."

"With what?" Judy asked, leaning against the table, legs crossed in front of her, her arms braced on the tabletop.

"Cleaning up some mess of his. He was wasted—I could smell the alcohol . . . and the blood."

Tom ran his tongue along sharpening teeth. "Did you help him clean up?"

The werewolf alpha met his gaze steadily. "No," he said calmly, but Tom could hear the man's heartbeat speed up ever so slightly. He leaned in, baring fangs as he snapped, "You're lying. Do you really think I can't hear your heartbeat, the way it sped up over that one word?" Hanson kept his voice low; he didn't want his captain to overhear him and suspect something was different about them. _I guess flashing fangs wasn't the best idea, then._

"My beta has been teaching you well, then," Jackson murmured.

Hanson resisted the urge to snarl. "Yeah, you could say that. And while he was with me, Mason tried to kill me!"

"Only because you were trying to protect me," Hoffs muttered.

Both 'wolves glanced at her before returning their attention to each other, Hanson with hostility, Jackson with grudging respect and wariness.

"Hold it," Captain Jenko broke in, and Tom tore his gaze from the alpha to his superior officer. "Tom, how do you know he's lying?"

 _Oh. I guess Jenk did hear that and not the rest of it._ The Jump Street werewolf shuffled his feet and rubbed the back of his head with his hand. Hopefully, he said, "Uh, I have keen hearing?"

"Uh-huh," Jenko said dryly. "And your teeth? I could have sworn they were sharper a few seconds ago than they are now."

Sharp nails pricked his scalp. Startled, Tom withdrew his hand and glanced down to see his fingernails had lengthened into claws. Silently willing them to return to normal, he said, "You must have been imagining things. It's almost Halloween, after all."

"You're probably right," the captain said after a moment, but Tom could tell he didn't really believe it. Then Jenko returned his attention to Jackson. "So, like Officer Hanson said, did you help the suspect?"

He sighed. "Okay, yeah. I went with him, but when I saw the girl, I left. Even before I saw her, I was wanting to leave. It didn't smell right."

Jenko frowned. "Smell right?"

The older lupine smiled a little. "You know how death just has a certain . . . aura, a scent . . . about it?"

Jenko's confusion cleared. "Yeah. You know we're going to have to arrest Mason, right?"

Jackson nodded. "I know. But . . ." He hesitated, glancing at Tom. "We could deal with him in our own way—if you join our pack."

Hanson couldn't hold back the angry growl. "I've told you already: I'm not joining you." His canines sharpened, and Tom could feel fingernails lengthening into claws. He was close to losing control, and his captain had no idea he was 'wolf. . . .

"Hey, Tom, cool it," Judy murmured in his ear; she'd slipped off the table and was now behind him, one hand massaging his tense shoulder muscles.

Captain Jenko broke in, eyes narrowed. "What are you guys talking about? Tom, is there something going on that you haven't told me?"

 _Yeah, like the fact I'm a werewolf._ "I can't tell you that," Hanson said, ignoring Jackson's slow nod of approval.

"Hey, if you're personally involved in this case—" Jenko began hotly.

Tom snarled and whirled around, stalking out of the Chapel. Behind him, he heard footsteps and—without looking—he knew who it was. "Judy, what are you—?"

"I wanted to see if you were okay. I've never seen you act like that before. Not to mention the fact you tried to eat me."

"I really am sorry about that, Jude." He sighed heavily and combed his fingers through his messy brown hair, noting with relief that the claws had vanished. "I don't know how much longer I can keep this a secret."


	21. Chapter 21

Tom wasn't sure how long they stayed out there. He was vaguely aware that Jackson had left, as the alpha had gingerly picked his way around them on his way out of the Chapel. Finally, the sound of Jenko's voice calling them inside and the sight of Doug roaring up on his motorcycle jolted him out of his trance. For the first time, he noticed that Judy's head was resting on his shoulder.

_Uh, okay . . ._

"Hey, guys!" Penhall greeted them as he made his way—noisily—up the stairs. Then he noticed how close they were, and a slightly embarrassed expression crossed his features. "Oh, uh, I'm not interrupting anything, am I?

Judy's head whipped up from Tom's shoulder so fast that he thought she'd break her neck. Nervously, he ran a hand through his locks of brown hair, suddenly wishing it was fur. "Uh, no. Doug, what are you doing here? And where's Ioki?"

His best friend shrugged. "I forgot something here, and no, I have no idea where Iokage is. If you see him, say hi to him for me, will ya?"

"I think you're going to have to do that yourself," Judy said, pointing. "He's right behind you."

Penhall turned around, yelped, and shot a foot into the air. "Geez, Harry, don't sneak up on me like that!"

"Who said anything about sneaking?" Harry asked, grinning.

Tom glanced over at Judy, who was laughing, and cracked a smile of his own. "He has a point there, Doug."

"HANSON!"

At the sound of Jenko's voice, the lupine sighed and heaved himself to his feet. As he'd said earlier, he had no idea how he could keep this a secret for much longer. So far Judy was the only one who knew the truth about him . . . but that was different.

Entering the main room of the chapel again, he saw his captain didn't look happy. "Yes, Coach?"

Jenko's dark eyes flashed. "Do you want to tell me what the hell just happened? Or is that something that's on a need-to-know basis?"

Hanson resisted the urge to growl. Turning away, he said, "You wouldn't believe me if I told you." Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Judy, Doug, and Harry crowded in the doorway.

"Try me," Jenk said.

Judging from the worried look in Judy's eyes, Hanson's own eyes had gone yellow. She mouthed frantically, "What are you doing?" Tom ignored her and turned back around, feeling the 'wolf inside him stir at the look on his captain's face. "Okay, fine. You're going to think I'm totally crazy, but—"

"Hanson, you're not crazy," Hoffs said, stepping out from her spot in the doorway and walking over to him. "Of course, you did try to eat me . . ."

"How many times do I have to say I'm sorry?"

Penhall coughed. "Uh, excuse me. _You_ tried to _eat_ Judy?"

"No! Well, yes, but no. I wasn't really in control."

Harry just looked confused, while Jenko held up his hands. "Whoa, hold it, back up. What are you talking about? And Hanson, does this have anything to do with your reaction to Jackson?"

Tom sighed, struggling with the impulse to flash sharp canines at his captain. "Yeah, you could say that. I'm a werewolf."

Of course, Judy wasn't surprised, but Doug and Harry's reactions were priceless: Harry's face reflected his sense of horror, and Doug leaped backwards, eyes wide. Jenko just eyed him warily. "For real?"

Hanson growled and curled his lip to show fangs. "Is this proof enough, or would you prefer I shift forms?"

"No, we're good," Ioki and Penhall said in unison, while Judy nodded slowly and licked her lips. Apparently, she was now over the fact his 'wolf had tried to make a meal out of her. Well . . . so did he, but in a _much_ different way. _Oh, can it, Tom!_ Finally, he shifted his gaze to Jenko, who shuffled his feet uncomfortably. The hang-on hippie muttered, "No. Come to think of it, this does explain why you've been acting so odd recently. And Judy, how long have you known?"

"Well, I'm a newblood," Hanson explained hastily. "I've only been a 'wolf for the past few days, and, well, sometimes it's hard to keep control." He smiled slightly. "Judy can testify to that."

"Oh, yeah," Hoffs agreed, slinging an arm around Tom's neck. Feeling the rest of the team staring at the two of them, Hanson flushed crimson. "Uh, can we get back to the case?" he asked.

Penhall snapped out of his daze. "You guys have a break?"

"Yeah, and we now know who killed Ashley," Tom replied. "Jenk, do you think you can get us an arrest warrant?"

"Sure." The word came out tersely, and Tom found Jenko's expression hard to read. "Look, everyone, it's Saturday. You should all be at home, not here in the chapel!"

"What about you?" Ioki retorted. "You're here."

"Well, I was just about to leave. You know I play with my garage band on Saturday night. See ya guys later." And with that, Jenko walked out, leaving his four officers alone.

Taking in the looks on Doug and Harry's faces, Tom swallowed hard. The truth was out, and now he had to deal with the consequences. But how were they going to react?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Meh. I was kinda hoping for a few more chapters before Hanson was kinda forced to reveal his furry little secret to the rest of the team, but this works (I think). And now for the arrest scene . . . *evil grin; wrings hands* Mwhahahahahaha!


	22. Chapter 22

There was silence for a very long minute before Doug said, "Why didn't you come to us earlier, Tom?" just as Harry asked, "You're not going to eat us, are you?"

"Whoa, one at a time," Tom said. "Doug, I wasn't sure how you guys would react, and Harry, _no_. I don't eat people." He shuddered at the thought, feeling his canines return to normal. Tom hadn't realized that they'd been fangs this whole time. "Sorry about the fangs, guys."

Doug looked like he was puzzling over something. Finally he said, "What did you mean earlier, about you and Judy?"

"It's not what you think," Tom said. "We're not sleeping together." Well, there was last night in Judy's apartment, but that didn't count. He'd just shifted back into human form during his sleep . . . and his thoughts were heading into dangerous territory again.

Harry's horrified look had vanished, but the gaze he gave Hanson now was wary. "So, who was Jenk talking about? Some guy named Jackson?"

The snarl came loose before Hanson could stop it, and he felt Judy tense up, as close as she was to him. "He's an alpha, a pack leader . . . and he wants me in his pack."

Doug let out a low whistle. "You said no, right?"

"Of course!" Tom glared at his best friend. "Do you think I _want_ this? I never asked to be bitten!"

"Okay, okay." Penhall backed off, holding up his hands in the universal "calm down" gesture.

"Okay, guys, why don't we—," Judy began, only to be interrupted by Harry, who was staring at Tom as he accused, "You _like_ it, don't you? You like being 'wolf."

"Harry!" Judy snapped. "What's your problem?" She lunged for him, but Tom caught her around the waist and pulled her close. "Easy, Jude," he murmured in her ear. Her sweet scent filled his nose, and he had to resist the temptation to taste her, to have her lips on his. Besides, Doug and Harry were staring at the two of them, so he released her once he felt her relax. The lupine answered Harry, "To be honest, I'm not sure if I don't like it. I mean, some parts of it are really cool, but then there's the fact I lost half my humanity to a wolf."

Penhall blinked. "Hanson, I . . ." He stepped closer, but froze when his partner flashed fangs, yellow spinning in his dark eyes. Tom growled, "I knew telling you was a mistake. I'll see you later." Ignoring the stricken looks on Ioki and Penhall's faces, he walked out of the Chapel, too preoccupied to hear Judy following him. Tom was only aware of her when she leaned against the driver-side door of his Mustang, preventing him from entering the vehicle. He sighed and asked, "What, Judy?"

"They'll come around in time, you know, but there was no need to act the way you did."

Hanson snorted. "This coming from the one who tried to attack Harry."

She flushed. "Sorry about that, but—"

"Jude, I knew telling them was a bad idea. Not all of them are as quick to accept this as you are."

Tom was almost relieved when she changed the subject, asking, "So, who do you think tried to knife you and John? We're not going to have the forensics report for weeks."

Hanson flashed back to the encounter in Rocket Dog. "I have a pretty good idea. How 'bout I tell you my theory over lunch?"

Judy smiled. "Just don't eat at Rocket Dog. I've heard they've had recent cases of food poisoning."

"Pizza?" he suggested.

"Sounds good to me."

"Let's go, then." Judy moved away from the door, allowing Tom to slide in behind the wheel, then went around to the shotgun seat. They were soon long gone.

* * *

"Okay, spill," Judy said once their pizza had arrived. "What's this theory of yours?"

Tom took a bite of dough, tomato sauce, cheese, and pepperoni before he answered, "I think it was these two kids I ran into at Rocket Dog on Friday—yesterday. Well, four actually, but I already gave David and Alyssa a warning. Mike and Wes didn't get the memo, I'm guessing."

"I remember seeing David and Alyssa fleeing like hellhounds were on their tails. Why did you lie to me, Hanson? We're partners on this case, remember?"

"I didn't lie to you, Jude. I just didn't tell you the whole truth."

"You mislead me."

"Can we get back to the subject here? I think it was either Wes or Mike or both who tried to turn me and John into shish-ka-bob."

"Why not Mason?" Hoffs asked as she bit into a slice of pepperoni pizza.

"Think about it. He's lupine too, so he knows what will kill us, and I'm guessing no werewolf wants to be around wolfsbane. Only a human who wasn't a hunter and knew we existed would try silver."

"Wait a sec. Hunters?"

Tom shrugged. "John mentioned them in one of our training sessions. I don't know anything about them, and I want to keep it that way, honestly."

"How do you know these two high school kids aren't hunters?"

Hanson took a few more bites of pizza, chewed, swallowed. "If they were, they wouldn't be stupid enough to try to off two werewolves in a crowded nightclub using a knife that doesn't even affect us."

"Good point. So, any idea where we can find them?"

"University Park, maybe. There's a skate park around there, and I got the impression both of them are skaters." He finished off the pizza slice and reached for another. The crust looked like cardboard, but he didn't really care.

"Really?" Judy arched an eyebrow as she leaned forward and took a sip of her drink. "And how'd you get that impression?"

Tom gave her a sheepish look. "Their scent . . . but they were also leaning skateboards up against the wall."

"Ah. Very observant of you."

"Thanks." Tom tossed the pizza slice back on the plate. "You wanna head over there now? This pizza isn't the greatest."

Hoffs smiled. "I thought you'd never ask."

* * *

The two undercover cops walked across the grass, making a beeline for the skate park. Much to Tom's relief, Wesley and Mike were there, performing all sorts of tricks and just showing off in general.

Both boys noticed Hoffs and Hanson at the same time and skated over, stopping their boards easily. Wes all but snarled, "What are you doing here?" at Tom.

"And who's this?" Mike asked, eyeing Judy.

"I'm Judy Johnson," Hoffs replied coolly, sticking to her cover. "Relax. We just wanna talk, all right?"

"About what?" Wes asked suspiciously, glaring at Hanson with intense dislike. "I've got nothing to say to a werewolf."

"Uh-huh. So, where were you last night at around eight-ten?" Tom said.

The two teens exchanged uneasy glances before replying, "At home."

Tom could smell the lie. "No you weren't. So, let's try this again. Where were you at eight-ten last night? The Burnout, maybe?"

Wes and Mike looked at each other and bolted.

"They're running?" Judy said in disbelief.

"They're running," Tom replied, shrugging before he and Judy took off after the teenagers.

"I can't believe this!" said Hoffs. "We didn't even identify ourselves as cops!"

"What'cha gonna do?" Tom shot back, checking his speed so he wasn't going too fast. If he went as fast as he knew he could, he'd look like a blur, and the last thing he wanted was to call attention to himself. Well, any more than he had to.

Tom and Judy ended up leaping over a couple stretched out on a blanket then ducked and weaved through a copse of trees until they were in a now-familiar clearing. Wes and Mike were sprinting full-out, but Tom easily caught up to them, judged the distance, and leapt, knocking Wes down. Wesley struggled underneath Tom's weight, while Mike had halted and turned back to help his friend, only to freeze as Judy pulled out her gun and cried, "Police! Hold it right there!" She flipped out her badge for further identification—not that Mike needed it.

Wes, on the other hand, didn't freeze. He drew his foot back and managed to land one in Tom's stomach. The auburn-haired kid started to climb to his feet and begin running again, but Hanson was already after him, fighting the overwhelming urge to shift and bring the boy down. He could do that in human form, but he could help growing claws, just in case. Again he lunged, claws digging into Wesley's shoulders. Wes yelped as he fell, twisting his body so his face was inches from Tom's. The werewolf cop bared fangs, growling, "So, I take it you're the one who tried to knife me and Bryant."

"Uh, maybe."

"I'll take that as a yes," Tom snarled, teeth inches away from Wesley's throat. The boy's eyes widened in horror, and his heart beat faster, the pulsing of the vein in his neck making Tom's mouth water. Just the thought of all that warm blood . . .

"Hanson!"

Judy's voice snapped him back. Suddenly realizing what he was about to do, Tom recoiled, disgusted with himself. "Roll over," he ordered. Wes did as directed, and Tom snapped handcuffs on his wrists. "You're under arrest for the attempted murder of a police officer—that's me, in case you're slow—and John Bryant. You have the right to remain silent. If you give up that right, anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford one, one will be appointed to you. Do you understand these rights as I've read them to you?"

Wesley didn't reply. In his anger, Hanson jabbed his shoulder blades with his claws, his nostrils flaring at the smell of fresh blood. He growled, "Understand?"

"Yes. Now get off me!"

Tom rolled off the eighteen-year-old and helped him to his feet. His eyes caught Judy's, and his stomach clenched at the fear he saw there. He didn't want that. Not now, not ever. He cared for her too much.

_Why can't I control myself? What if I lose control one of these days and turn on one of the team?_


	23. Chapter 23

It wasn't long until Wes and Mike were booked and being held in the little cell in the Chapel. As Jenko was at band practice, it took Tom awhile to contact him using the phone on his desk. Once he did, he informed his captain that they'd caught the two kids who'd tried to off him and a suspect. Jenko sighed and said he'd be right over to sign the paperwork.

In the fifteen to twenty minutes of waiting time, Hanson was trying to avoid looking at Hoffs, which was almost physically impossible. To distract himself, he asked Mike and Wesley, "Hey, is there any particular reason _why_ you two idiots tried to kill me?"

"You're a 'wolf. Do we need any other reason?" Mike spat.

"Well, if you really wanted to kill me and John, you could have at least used a knife that actually works." Tom smirked. "Silver doesn't affect us. And trying to murder two werewolves in a public place?" He shook his head. "What were the two of you smoking?" Tom saw Judy crack a smile out of the corner of his eye. Her scent was oddly comforting as she came up and sat next to him on the table.

Wesley gulped. "We—we don't do drugs."

"Relax, man. It was a rhetorical question." Hanson couldn't resist giving him a smile full of knives.

Mike finally spoke up. "So, what _does_ work on you guys?"

Tom sneered, "Like I'm gonna tell _you_ that."

"Good point," Wes begrudgingly admitted.

There was silence until Jenko came waltzing in. "Okay, where's the fire, Hanson?"

Tom jerked his head toward the holding cell. "Did I not tell you those two tried to knife me last night?" There was the hint of a snarl in his voice.

"Do you have any evidence of this?"

"The lab has the knife, and they gave us a confession, Coach."

"Not exactly," Wes muttered.

Tom's head swung toward the teen, yellow flaring in his eyes, and he gave a low growl. He knew he was close to losing control, but he couldn't push back the 'wolf that lurked beneath his skin. As much as he hated to admit it, he wanted the change, _needed_ it. _Maybe Harry was right. You're like a junkie and this is your fix._ He couldn't even count on one hand the number of times he'd shifted forms since he'd been turned.

"Hanson—," Judy began, but he barely heard her over the blood roaring in his ears. His eyes fastened on Wesley as fire shot through him.

"What do you mean 'not exactly'?" Jenko asked Wesley.

"They chased after us and he attacked me! Don't you call that coercion or something?"

Tom's low growl ripped through the room as he doubled over, fingers fumbling with his shirt and jeans, and freed the 'wolf inside him. Eyes still on the two boys in lockup, he crouched, muscles tensing, and leapt. _I'll show you coercion._

"Tom, no!" he heard Judy yell, but his werewolf instincts were fully in control. In the next instant something slammed into him, knocking him sideways. Tom yelped in surprise as he crashed to the floor and twisted his neck around, trying to see his attacker. His dark brown eyes widened in surprise when he saw it was Judy.

"Hanson," she hissed, "get a grip! I know you're in there, so don't even think about biting me."

Slowly his human mind surfaced and he relaxed his muscles. The stunned looks on the others' faces shocked him back into human form.

"Oh, God, my eyes!" Wes cried out, covering his eyes with his hands. "My innocence!"

"Shut up," Tom snapped, feeling his skin heat up as Judy's gaze swept over him much as it had the first night he'd transformed into the lycan state, again, her eyes lingering in certain places. He reached for his clothes, turning his back to them as he dressed hurriedly.

"Well," Jenko said at last, "you weren't lying."

Tom couldn't help but glare at his captain. "Do you really think I'd lie about something like this?"

"Hey, relax, man. In fact, I kinda dig it."

The 'wolf blinked. "You do?"

Jenko shrugged. "Sure."

"Hey, could you just sign the bloody paperwork or whatever and call our parents so they can come bail us out?" Mike snapped.

Captain Jenko glanced at Tom and Judy. "You two go home, take the day off. I'll handle this."

Hanson hesitated, but Judy grabbed his arm and dragged him out of the office with a, "See you later, Jenko!"

* * *

They spent the rest of the afternoon hanging out together, much like when Judy had helped Tom with his training when he first arrived at Jump Street. As evening fell, they parted ways, and when he walked into his apartment, Hanson was so wiped out that all he wanted to do was go to sleep and not wake up. Ever.

Of course, that wasn't going to happen. A low howl rang through the stillness of the night, snapping Tom awake and, horrified, he found he couldn't resist the summons. It wasn't long before he was down on the street, having scrabbled down the side of the building using his werewolf abilities. He took off once his feet hit the ground, not sure where he was going, only that he had to find the alpha and his pack.

Tom heard the howl again, only this time it sounded angrier, more aggressive. Fire shot through him and he cried out in pain, feeling the stages of the transformation. It had never hurt him to shift before, not counting the very first time, so why was it now? Not that it mattered, as in Tom's place there was now a dark brown 'wolf. Releasing a howl of his own, he bounded away, soon fading into the night.


	24. Chapter 24

The dark brown werewolf somehow wasn't surprised to find he was at Hotel California. What _did_ surprise him, though, was the fact he was the only one there—except for Jackson. Hanson could smell him nearby, and, warily, he shifted back into human form, completely clothed, oddly enough, even if they were slightly torn up. _Huh. Whatever happened to clothing hampering our ability to shift?_

"Fancy meeting you here," Jackson's now-familiar voice said.

Tom's head whipped up towards the stairs and he tensed, a growl rising from deep in his chest. He bared fangs at the alpha, dark eyes flashing. "I could say the same thing."

Hanson blinked in surprise when Jackson was suddenly in front of him, having landed lightly after launching himself off from the top of the stairs. A nervous whine rose and died in Tom's throat as he forced himself to meet Jackson's green-gold eyes. "Why am I here?"

The alpha smiled slowly. "Since you were bitten by my beta, you're automatically part of the pack. You belong to me. And when the pack leader calls, the pack comes running. Isn't that right?"

"Yeah," Tom heard John's voice say. His head snapped in the beta's direction, eyes widening when he saw Mason and two other 'wolves, one of them the female he'd encountered that night at the club, and it took all his self-control not to fall to the floor, hackles raised. Even as he fought the fight-or-flight response he could feel the 'wolf inside itching to have a stronger hold on him. Tom growled at the teenage werewolves, "What are you doing here?"

John shrugged his shoulders and gave him a helpless look, but it was Mason Folan who answered. "Like the alpha said, we have to come when he calls. Besides, this little training session is going to be fun." He flashed Hanson a wicked grin, while the dark-haired girl beside him gave the cop elevator eyes and licked her lips. Hanson shook his head at her and said, "Nuh-uh. Don't even think about it. I have a girl already." Well, not really, but this she-wolf didn't need to know that. He also couldn't help but notice the way John's eyes lit up at that, while Mason's darkened. The other boy, one who Tom didn't know, had to hide his smirk behind his hand.

"That's enough," Jackson snapped out. There was the hint of a growl in his voice, and Tom bristled defensively, his eyes holding those of the alpha. "As to why you're here, Mason was partly correct. Tom, if you join us, we can protect you, teach you control even during the full moon . . . and how to survive."

Hanson folded his arms across his chest and felt his canines elongating. "What part of 'I'm not joining you' don't you understand?" Well, on second thought, he would be able to get in tight with Folan. Sigh. Decisions, decisions. Hopefully John and Jackson would keep their promise not to blow his cover.

"You don't have a choice," the alpha hissed.

Tom sighed and started pacing, raking a hand through his waves of dark brown hair. "Okay, okay. You win. I'll join your pack."

The other five 'wolves smiled in satisfaction, knowing they finally had him.

John finally let out a small cough. "So, training?"

Tom gulped as he saw Jackson's sharp fangs. "By now you should know how to fight in your 'wolf forms. You can retain a lot of your lupine skills and senses in human shape, enabling you to survive a fight without transforming into the lupine state. Of course, you also have to be able to work together if you're going to bring down bigger prey—in this case, me."

"Got it," Tom said, suddenly wishing he'd just kept his mouth shut when the rest of the pack shot him dirty looks.

"Anyway, begin."

With a snarl, Mason launched himself at Jackson. He'd barely touched him when the alpha flung out an arm and sent the younger 'wolf flying. Mason hit one wall of the abandoned building—Tom still couldn't figure out if it was someone's house or hotel or what—and crumpled to the ground, dazed.

"Again. And try working together this time." With that being said, Jackson lunged toward Tom, a clawed hand swiping at the undercover cop's face. Tom recoiled instinctively and dodged out of the way. Somehow he ended up hanging onto the second floor balcony, claws digging into the wood as he pulled himself to safety. For a few seconds he was grateful that he could pull on aspects of his lupine form without turning 'wolf. A quick glance down showed the four teenagers (Mason had recovered) were closing in on their alpha, then darting out of range when he tried to attack. They were toying with him, Tom realized.

Before he quite knew what he was doing, he'd balanced himself on top of the balcony railing, leg muscles tense and coiled, ready to spring. Then he was dropping down through the air, heading straight for Jackson. Part of him was terrified, but another part—probably the part that had gotten him turned—was calm, collected, and strangely exhilarated, as if he knew this was going to work.

Somehow, Jackson sensed he was coming. Seconds before Hanson would have crashed into him and sent them both to the ground he whirled around and caught Tom by the shirt, bared fangs in a grin, and slammed him down on the ground. The impact knocked the breath out of Hanson, and he scrabbled into a sitting position, trying to catch his breath back. While he was doing that, Jackson turned to his pack and said, annoyed, "Could someone try something I'm not expecting?"

The guys' jaws dropped when the only female werewolf in the pack began snogging their alpha. It took quite a few seconds for Jackson to dislodge the girl, and Tom noticed his breathing was jagged. "Don't do that _ever_ again," the alpha growled.

The she-wolf just smirked.

Jackson held her gaze until she looked away. His gaze swept over the pack, lingering on Hanson. The newblood's teeth began to itch as his canines became fangs, and he nervously clenched and unclenched his fists, ignoring the irritant of pain as his claws dug into the pads of his palms. He was trying so hard to gain control that he almost missed it when the alpha snapped, "Do you think I'm teaching you how to fight? I'm not; I'm teaching you how to _survive_. Now, try it again." With that, he advanced on Tom, sensing that the newblood was the weak link.

Remembering several fights with Waxer, Tom punched the older werewolf in the face and followed up with a hit to the gut. Then he rushed him, using his weight to pin Jackson against the nearest wall, where he landed another sucker-punch to the jaw, putting most of his strength behind the blow. The alpha was down for the count.

Breathing heavily, Tom glanced up at the rest of the pack, who were watching him warily. He said, "Uh, sorry about that."

"You shouldn't be," Jackson commented from his spot on the floor. He pushed himself up onto his feet and looked at Hanson appreciatively, rubbing his jaw. "Man, you sure can pack a punch."

"Um, thanks?"

"Anyway, yes, you need to work together, but—like when a pack goes after a moose or another large animal—only one wolf makes the kill. Where'd you learn to hit like that, Tom?"

Hanson shrugged. "The streets." It was true. Back when he was on patrol, he ended up starting a lot of fights when the suspects teased him about his baby-face. He'd also ended up breaking the nose of every partner he was paired with.

He jumped when John's hand landed on his shoulder. The drug dealer murmured in his ear, "I told you we needed you in our pack."

Tom growled quietly. "Remove your hand unless you wish to run on three paws."

John's hand lifted. "Well, you already know me and Mason. The girl over there is Erin and the guy is Connor."

"How many of you are purebloods?" Tom asked.

"Me, Jackson, and Mason. Connor and Erin were turned by our alpha."

"Oh."

Tom stiffened at a sudden sound behind him. Twisting around to see what had caused it, he let out a yell of surprise and dropped to the floor. Around him, he was aware of the others turning 'wolf, even Jackson.

Miranda Blackthorne, Tom's anatomy partner, paled and started to back slowly away. "Um, sorry," she said. "Wrong abandoned warehouse." She was gone in the next two seconds before the pack could react.

Mason's head swung toward Tom, fury blazing in his blue eyes. He growled and slunk toward the cop. _You brought her here! She must have followed you!_

 _No one followed me!_ Tom bristled and snarled at his suspect. The snarl turned into a defiant roar as Mason leapt, claws extended, teeth bared.

* * *

Judy bolted upright in bed at the sound of a faint roar coming from three miles away. Somehow she knew it was Tom—and he was in trouble.

She threw back the duvet, hurried over to her dresser drawer, and changed quickly into jeans and a sweatshirt. After pulling on a pair of socks and tennis shoes, she grabbed her coat and car keys and raced for the door. As she started her car and pulled away, she hoped she wasn't too late.

* * *

...

Tom sidestepped and pounced when Mason landed, his fangs sinking into muscle even as his claws tore into the other 'wolf's sides. Mason yowled with pain and crow-hopped desperately in a circle, hoping the bucking and twisting would throw Tom off. Hanson finally tore himself free and managed to land on all fours. The rest of the pack started to close in, but Mason snapped, _Stay back! He is_ mine.

Tom bristled and swiped a club-like paw at the other werewolf. Mason didn't dodge fast enough and Hanson caught him a good blow across the muzzle. Mason backed away for a second, dazed, and then went on the offensive, his claws making Tom's dark fur sticky and shiny with blood. Hanson snarled and fought back, clamping his jaws on one of Mason's forepaws. His grip tightened involuntarily when Mason tried to jerk his paw free, and the taste of warm blood flowing between his teeth made his mouth water even as part of him recoiled in disgust.

 _All right, that's enough!_ Jackson's voice filled both young 'wolves minds, and each broke away from the other, wincing in discomfort at the force of the alpha's mind.

At the same time, the door burst open and Judy came rushing in, her clothes and hair disheveled, making it clear she'd rolled out of bed not too long ago. At the moment, Tom was more concerned about why she was here.

 _Come on,_ Jackson ordered the pack. _Let's go. Tom, you can come if you wish._

_I'm staying._

The alpha said, _Suit yourself,_ before he—along with the rest of the pack—slunk away into the shadows.

Once he was sure they were gone, Hanson limped his way across to Judy and pushed his nose into her hand. Almost automatically her fingers were running through his fur. She asked, "What happened, Hanson?"

He concentrated on an image of himself in human form and shifted back without any effort at all. "What are you doing here, Jude?"

"I thought you were in trouble. I heard you from three miles away. You haven't answered my question."

"My alpha . . ." Tom shook his head as his voice trailed away. "He summoned me. I had no choice." The look he gave her then was so helpless, and he hated that, but he couldn't help it. He just wanted someone to understand . . .

"Well, come on. Let's get you home," Judy said. She offered her hand, and, knowing she wouldn't take no for an answer, he accepted it.

* * *

When they pulled up in front of his apartment building, Judy exited the car with Hanson and walked with him to the door of his apartment. Although Tom was surprised, he was smart enough not to question her about it. It wasn't until she had come inside with him that he sent her a questioning look. "Judy, are you planning on spending what's left of the night here?"

"Actually, yes, I am," she shot back. "Besides, you're hurt and I have a few questions for you."

He sighed. "Judy, the wounds will heal on their own. As for any questions . . . fire away."

Her dark eyes narrowed. "Earlier you said 'my alpha.' What do you mean, your alpha?"

He looked at her helplessly. "Do I have to spell it out for you?"

"You— Oh God." Judy's eyes widened and she took a step back. "You joined his pack?"

"What else could I have done?" The look he gave her then was bordering on angry. "Besides, Mason's in the same pack. I can get closer to him and find out if he really did kill Myers."

"And while you're risking your neck, what am I supposed to do?" Judy began pacing, turning in circles, her hands playing with her hair. She stiffened when Tom grabbed her by the shoulders and turned her to face him. Hoffs raised a fist to strike, but Tom, lightning-quick, grabbed her wrist and held it there. Her breath caught at the flash of gold in his eyes right before he kissed her—hard.

Finally they broke apart for air. Judy asked softly, "What did you do that for?"

He rested his forehead against hers. "Remember what I said this morning? I love you."

She swallowed. "Me, too."

There was silence for a long minute until Tom said with a laugh, "Uh, how do we explain all of this to the rest of the team?"

"Just shut up," she answered before pulling his mouth down to hers. She thought, _I guess that moment in the classroom meant something after all._


	25. Chapter 25

The next morning, Tom woke up to the ear-shattering sound of a very familiar bass line and guitar riff. He groaned and rolled over onto his side, cupping the pillow around his sensitive ears. Sadly, the cotton didn't do much to muffle the sounds of the Scorpions single.

_It's early morning  
The sun comes out  
Last night was shaking  
And pretty loud  
My cat is purring  
It scratches my skin_

_So what is wrong  
With another sin . . ._

Tom growled and, throwing the pillow to the side, sat upright, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. He was wearing only his dog tags and boxers, and despite the fact it was October, he was quite warm. Even so, he pulled on an old T-shirt and jeans before stalking out into the living room. He snarled, "Judy . . ." and stopped dead when he saw that she was . . . in the kitchen, cooking? Since when did Judy know how to cook? Well, the omlette she'd made yesterday was pretty good . . . _Oh, snap out of it!_

Upon closer inspection, he saw she was actually moving to the beat of the song. Judy was so lost in the music that she didn't hear the soft tread of footsteps as Tom came up behind her. With a smirk, he said, "Really, Jude? 'Rock You Like a Hurricane'?"

Startled, she jumped and turned around, revealing nothing in her hands. "Hanson! Geez, don't do that!"

"I take it you slept well then."

A mischievous look crossed her face. "Of course I did. Why, didn't you?"

Snatches of skin-on-skin contact and passionate moans briefly filled his mind before he pushed them away.

_. . . More days to come  
New places to go  
I've got to leave  
It's time for a show_

_Here I am, rock you like a hurricane  
Here I am, rock you like a hurricane . . ._

Instead of answering, he winced. "Can you change the station, please?"

"Sure." Hoffs shot the 'wolf a smile as she walked over to the sound system and switched to another rock station. Hanson let out a groan as he caught some of the lyrics:

_Pour some sugar on me, ooo, in the name of love  
Pour some sugar on me, c'mon fire me up  
Pour your sugar on me, ooo, I can't get enough  
I'm hot, sticky sweet, from my head to my feet, yeah_

"Uh, let's try a different station," Tom suggested.

"What, you don't like Def Leppard?" Judy teased.

"Kinda. Just not this song."

"All right." She turned the dial once more, and this time Hanson actually growled at the stereo. "You gotta be kidding me."

Judy ignored him and began dancing and singing along.

"'Cause baby we'll be  
At the drive-in  
In the old man's Ford  
Behind the bushes  
Until I'm screaming for more  
Down the basement  
Lock the cellar door  
And baby  
Talk dirty to me"

Hanson's growling continued as he stalked over to the radio, ready to turn the darn thing off, when a thought hit him: _Hang on._ Poison? _Officer Judy Hoffs listens to POISON?!_ He smiled slowly. _Oh, wait till Doug and Harry find out._ If he could have, he would be wringing his hands and throwing his head back to cackle evilly. As it was, his smile widened, with his fangs clearly visible.

Judy turned, saw the toothy grin, and froze in place. She swallowed hard, and he could hear her heart begin to beat faster. He could also smell the subtle fear-scent coming off her. "What?" she asked, voice wavering.

Tom leaned against the wall, legs crossed in front of him. He didn't take his eyes off her. "How does this song start? Oh, yeah, I remember. 'You know I never, I never seen you look so good. You never act the way you should—'"

He was cut off as Judy covered his mouth with her hand. Unable to resist, he stuck out his tongue and licked the palm of her hand. Instantly she pulled her hand away, but not before Hanson caught the flash of heat surging through her.

Judy glared. "What was that for?"

The grin he gave her rivaled that of the Cheshire cat. "I couldn't resist. Now, where was I?"

_. . . So I can hear you  
When you say those words to me  
And whisper so softly  
I gotta hear you_

_'Cause baby we'll be  
At the drive-in  
In the old man's Ford  
Behind the bushes  
Until I'm screaming for more  
Down the basement  
Lock the cellar door  
And baby  
Talk dirty to me_

_C.C. pick up that guitar and talk to me . . ._

"One word out of you, Hanson," Judy warned, "and you're a dead man."

His grin, if possible, widened even more, shoulders shaking with silent laughter.

"It's not funny!" Judy snapped.

"Yes, it is. Wait 'til Doug and Harry hear about this."

She paled. "You wouldn't."

He bared fangs playfully at her, eyes slowly turning yellow, and she sighed. Tom said, "Try me."

Judy would have replied, but the phone rang, interrupting their banter. Hanson crossed over to the phone and picked up the receiver. He answered, "Yeah?"

"Hey, Tom. It's Jenko," his captain said. Tom motioned quickly for Judy to turn the stereo down so he could hear Jenko better. She did, and Jenko was able to continue. "Is Judy there?"

"Yep," Tom replied.

"Was that 'Talk Dirty to Me' I heard playing in the background?"

"You know that song?"

"Contrary to popular belief, I don't listen to The Monkees, Jimi Hendrix, The Rolling Stones, and the Beatles all the time, Hanson. Now, as to why I'm calling: I was able to secure an arrest warrant for Folan, but we still need a confession. Get in close with him, but please, don't do anything stupid."

"Relax, Coach. I'm in his pack, and the alpha and John promised not to blow my cover."

"Do you trust them?"

"I hate to admit it, but yeah. Where are you?"

"The Chapel."

"Are Doug and Harry there?"

"No. You should probably go talk to them, Hanson."

"I will. Thanks, Jenk. You're the best."

"I get that a lot. Later." He disconnected.

Tom hung up too and turned to Judy. "That was Jenko. He got us an arrest warrant on Folan."

"That's great!"

Hanson yawned and massaged his temples. "What time is it?"

Judy glanced at her watch. "Nine-ten."

"Well, Doug and Harry are probably at church by now. It's Sunday, remember?"

"Is it really?" Hoffs blinked. "Wow, this week has gone by fast."

"No kidding." For Tom, the days had blurred together. It felt like a month had passed rather than a few days. Everything had been going fine until his life was turned upside down and he found it had gone to the dogs, had been screwed straight to hell.

Found himself a werewolf.

Okay, so he was beginning to control his new side and he liked the power his 'wolf gave him, but he was still worried that he would just let the 'wolf go and injure or turn one of his friends. Lost in thought, he chuckled darkly. _Welcome to my nightmare._

"Tom?" Judy's voice broke through the murky haze over his thoughts. "Are you okay?"

"No," he said slowly. "I'm not. How can I be? I'm a freaking werewolf, Judy!" His voice had risen with each word, and now he was shouting. "I'm scared that I'll lose control and attack one of you. My 'wolf . . . it's so hard, trying to resist. The bloodlust, the cravings . . . Do you have any idea what that's like?"

"I don't, but I have a pretty good idea from watching you." Judy moved closer to him, and he backed up until his entire body was pressed against the wall. He started to ask what she was doing, but speech failed him as she gave him a quick kiss. Then she was gone.

Hanson took a couple deep breaths, trying to slow his racing heartbeat, and didn't bother taking his eyes off her. "What was that?"

Hoffs just smirked and hooked a finger at him. "Come on, Hanson." She was already walking toward his front door.

He followed her. "Where are we going?"

"You'll see."


	26. Chapter 26

"What are we doing here?" Tom asked as he stared at Doug's apartment building. He really didn't want to go in there, but from the way Judy was looking at him, he guessed he didn't have a whole lot of choice.

"Simple," Hoffs said as she walked him through the building. "You're going to talk with Doug and Harry."

"They're probably not even there," Tom protested.

She shot him a smile that said, _We'll see_ , and stopped in front of Penhall's door. Judy rapped hard on the slick surface with her knuckles three times. It wasn't long before the door opened and a sleepy Doug Penhall poked his head out into the hallway. "What?" he asked.

"Hey, Doug," Judy said, her voice dripping saccharine. "Can we come in?"

Penhall's eyes flitted behind her to the werewolf before flicking back to Judy. "I guess," he answered, opening the door further. He shut it behind his best friend and his sometimes-partner.

A familiar scent caught Tom's nose and he sniffed at the air, trying to identify who it belonged to. Dark chocolate, black leather, cool ice . . . Finally it clicked. "Is Harry here?"

"How'd you know?" Doug asked, his tone wary.

Tom fidgeted, suddenly uncomfortable. "I have heightened senses and better, faster reflexes."

"Is it because you're a—"

"Werewolf?" Tom looked down at the floor for a split second. "Yeah."

"Who are you talking to, Doug?" came Harry's voice from the kitchenette. He walked into the living room and froze when he saw Hanson. "Okay, I'm outta here," he said, trying to bolt for the door. In the next moment, he was held in place by Tom's hand, which had lashed out and was now gripping Harry's shoulder. Hanson's chocolate-brown eyes met Ioki's black ones and held, never wavering. The lupine said, "No, you're not. Besides, we need to talk."

He felt Harry relax, and the other cop stepped back, arms folded over his chest. "Okay. Talk."

Tom dropped his hand from Harry's shoulder and rubbed the back of his neck, a habit he'd developed whenever he was nervous or uncertain about something. "You guys might want to sit down." He sat down on one of Doug's leather couches, across a coffee table. Judy lowered herself onto the seat beside him, while Doug and Harry plopped down onto the couch across the table.

Hanson fidgeted uneasily again at Penhall's calculating look. His best friend leaned forward, steepled his fingers together. "So," Doug said, "how are you dealing, Hanson?"

Well, he certainly wasn't expecting _that_ question. Caught off guard, he blinked. "As well as can be expected, I guess. I mean, I'm lupine now. Half wolf. Bryant's been helping me, though."

Harry stiffened at that. "Bryant? You mean John Bryant, the dealer you've been getting in with?"

"He's the one who turned me, Harry. Now that I'm in his pack, I can also get close to our murder suspect, Mason Folan."

"Jeez," Doug said faintly, slumping against the back of the couch. "How many werewolves are at that school?"

"Well, just three now. Me, John, and Mason. There are two other kids in the pack—Erin and Connor—but I don't know what school they go to."

"Hang on a sec," Ioki interrupted. "How do you know that?" He stared at Hanson.

"I . . . uh . . ." Tom hesitated. "I joined his pack."

Doug was on his feet in a flash. "You did _what_?"

Tom felt Judy stiffen beside him even as he rose as well. "You heard me."

"I want to hear you say it again," Doug hissed, clenching his fists.

"I. Joined. His. Pack," Tom said slowly, enunciating each word. "Doug, I had no choice! Jackson, my alpha . . ." He shook his head. "When _he_ calls, the 'wolf takes over and all that matters is obeying _him_. My human self is gone. If you think you want the bite, you're crazy."

Doug's face was stony, his eyes cold with anger . . . and something else. The stocky streetwise cop lunged at the smaller man, and before Tom could react, he was on the floor, Doug's weight pressing him down. Yeah, he was heavy, but now Tom was so much stronger than his friend would ever be. After a brief struggle, he managed to bring his feet under Doug and kicked hard. Penhall went flying and landed across the room, leaving a Doug-sized dent in the wall. He rolled over onto all fours and managed to get to his feet, eyes now tinged with fear. Tom's gut twisted at seeing that, but hopefully this would knock some sense into his best friend. He saw Judy and Harry start to rise out of the corner of his eye and he shook his head at them. They had to stay out of this.

A cough brought his attention back to Doug, who had recovered already and was coming toward him. Tom flicked a wrist and felt his claws appear. Slowly he walked toward Doug, hating that he had to do this, yet knowing he had to kill any hope his friend might have of him being given the bite. His claws absently tapped out a rhythm on his jean-clad thigh, one he recognized as Ozzy Osbourne's "Bark at the Moon." Odd, but it fit, albeit in a dark kind of way.

Doug's eyes homed in on Tom's claws, widened, and he slowly backed up until his back was to the wall. One clawed hand rested against it, sending Tom even closer. The lupine said slowly, "You think you want this." His voice was low, lilting upward at the end, implying a question when there wasn't one. He brought up his left hand, now wolfish as well, and rested the tips of his claws on Doug's cheek, the 'wolf inside savoring the fear-scent and the sound of that rapidly-beating heart. "What do you see? Keen senses, a few seconds shaved off a mile run, superior strength. The fun stuff." Hanson leaned back a little to meet Doug's frozen expression. His gums and canines itched, wanting to sharpen, elongate. At first he resisted, then thought, _Why not? They all need to know._ So he let the fangs show as he smiled darkly, took a deep breath, leaning in as he did so. "Truth is, Doug, I can hear your heartbeat, hear the way it pounds, and my 'wolf wants nothing more than to taste your warm, rich blood." The claws on Doug's cheek pressed harder, not enough to break the skin, but close. His dark brown eyes watched Doug's Adam's apple rise and fall as he swallowed hard.

"Hanson . . ." Penhall's voice was a mere whisper, but the amount of terror was as if he'd shouted. "You wouldn't hurt me. I'm your best friend, remember?"

Tom's eyes sparked gold as he allowed more of the lupine in him to show. "Don't you get it? If my alpha orders me to kill my old pack—you, Harry, Jenko, Judy—there's nothing I can do about it! He has _total control_ over us in 'wolf form—and sometimes not even then."

"But you haven't. Killed us, I mean."

Hanson's voice dropped into a low, throaty growl, almost a purr. "Yet." He slowly dragged the claws on Doug's cheek across his face, leaving red lines before he suddenly whirled and stalked away. Behind him, he could hear Doug's huff of relief before his legs gave out and he slid down the wall.

" _What_ ," Judy demanded when Tom was closer, "was that?"

"I concur with that statement," Harry added.

As Tom's 'wolf was so close to the surface, it took him several long moments to wrestle it back under control. When he was calm enough, he snapped, "Trying to make some of you see sense. I'm a mythological monster! How hard is that to comprehend?!"

"I'm reading you loud and clear," Harry muttered.

"Me too," Doug panted. He shot Tom a weak grin. "You should be in a horror movie."

Tom, Judy, and Harry all rolled their eyes and made noises of protest and exasperation. Hanson's voice rose above the others: "Come _on_ , Doug!"

"What? You'd be perfect!"

The other three cops rolled their eyes again and Tom mentally banged his head against the wall. "Okay, maybe so, but Halloween's coming up, remember?" He started walking toward the door, motioning with a finger for Judy to follow, when he suddenly stopped and turned around. "What's Harry doing here?"

"Oh, my apartment was having some issues, so Doug's letting me stay here with him until it's okay to move back," Harry said after a slight pause.

"Ah." Tom was silent before he shot Judy a wicked smile. "By the way, did you guys know Officer Hoffs here listens to Poison?"

Their reactions were just what he'd hoped they would be: stunned, surprised looks, followed by evil grins and amusement dancing in dark eyes. Penhall actually wrung his hands together.

Tom didn't even try to fight as Judy dragged him out of the apartment and slammed Doug's door shut. Turning on him, she hissed, "You are _so_ dead."

He smirked, but it quickly faded. "No, not me. Once bitten, twice shy, remember?"

"Oh, shut up," she grumbled before stalking off. He watched her for a moment, mesmerized by the motions of her body. Then he shook it off and followed. He'd make it up to her tonight.


	27. Chapter 27

Pale moonlight filtered through the window, casting black shadows on the far wall. Tom's skin shone silver, while his hair and eye color had muted to a dark gray. Although Judy slept beside him, he found he couldn't join her in slumber. His mind was very much awake, and given how late he had been up this week, it was a miracle he wasn't becoming a vampire: sleeping all day and staying up all night. What was that saying, once bitten, twice shy?

How can we ever make this work? Hanson thought, turning his head to look at Judy. _I'm a werewolf; she's a human. I have a hard enough time controlling my 'wolf as it is . . . but she calms me down. Why?_

Flashes of the night before and earlier tonight went through his mind. Both times, making love to her—while trying to keep his lupine under control—hadn't been intended, had been a heat of the moment thing, but then, to quote the Pat Benatar song, does it matter what's right in the heat of the night?

Hanson turned over onto his side, watching the moon. It was already waning and wouldn't be full again for another four weeks. Inside his head, he could hear a power ballad playing, but he couldn't quite remember the words. _How does it go? Oh, yeah: "I don't wanna touch you too much baby, 'cos makin' love to you might drive me crazy. Love bites, love bleeds—it's bringin' me to my knees. Love lives, love dies—it's no surprise. Love begs, love pleads—it's what I need." Wow, I've been listening to too much Def Leppard lately, but that part of the song is so true._ He sighed, then tensed when he heard something hitting the window. Tom tested the air, but he couldn't smell anything. Since the sound came again, he slid out of bed—boxers on—and padded over to the window. Looking out, he saw the now-familiar head of long blond hair, while the rest of the figure was dressed in black, as usual. _What's John doing here?_ Curiosity overcame him, so he slid up the window and stuck his head out. "What?" he hissed.

"Come on, Tom," the drug dealer replied. "There's something I think you should see."

Hanson hesitated, glanced back toward Judy, then turned to the window. "I'll be right down. Just let me put on some clothes first."

Two minutes later he was standing next to his packmate wearing jeans, a Bruce Springsteen T-shirt, and a black leather jacket. "How'd you find my apartment?"

"Relax, would you? I asked some 'wolf friends of my dad who are in the police department. I'm pretty sure you don't know anyone in Homicide, right?"

"Right." As the two began walking the dark streets, Tom asked, "Where are we going?"

"I heard there's another teen night at that club I was at on . . . was it Wednesday? So I was on my way to check it out when I found this girl . . . she looks pretty bad, Tom. Said she was, uh, taken advantage of, if you know what I mean."

Hanson did, all too well. "Where is she?"

"Should be right where I found her. Come on." John broke into a run, and Tom did the same to keep up. In a rather detached way, he noticed Bryant was wearing a T-shirt from Def Leppard's _Hysteria_ tour and realized for the first time that John looked a little bit like Joe Elliot, the band's lead singer. Weird that he would be thinking about that when he should be focusing on helping the girl. Chasing away any thoughts of Def Leppard, Tom ran faster, matching John stride for stride. Running was so much easier when he used his 'wolf powers.

The beta skidded to a stop at the entrance of an alley not far from the club. Tom hadn't been expecting it, so he overshot then slowed and walked back to John. His packmate gestured with a jerk of his head into the alley and slowly entered. Hanson pushed ahead when he saw the limp form huddled up against the brick wall at the back, shivering violently. He crouched in front of her and made reassuring noises. She looked up, a dull look in her eyes, and shrank back, fear edging out the dullness in her hazel eyes.

"Easy," Tom soothed. "I'm not going to hurt you. I'm a police officer." He pulled his ID out of his jeans pocket and flashed his badge. When he saw some of the terror start to fade, he tucked his wallet back in the pocket and said, "Do you know who did this to you?"

The girl shook her head.

"What did he look like? Can you describe him?"

"Uh, black hair, blue eyes, white," she said haltingly.

"Did he force you?"

"Yes."

"Tom," John said quietly, making the cop jump (he'd forgotten he was there), "take a deep breath; sort out the scents. Which of them is strongest on her?"

Hanson felt a little miffed at taking orders from a teenager, but John had been dealing with lycanthropy for a lot longer than him. As such, he inhaled deeply and noticed that Mason's scent was all over the sixteen-year-old girl. He glanced over his shoulder at John, who nodded confirmation. So, the beta smelled it, too.

Tom turned back to the victim. "We need to check you into a hospital. What's your name?"

"Allison."

"I'm Tom. Can you stand?"

Again she nodded, her hazel eyes wide, her curly black hair now stringy, dirty, and clinging to her skin, and tried to rise. Allison, as soon as she was on her feet, took a step . . . and stumbled. Instantly the two werewolves caught her from underneath the shoulders and waited while she regained her footing.

"Hey, John, this is your neighborhood. Where's the nearest hospital?" Hanson asked the teen.

"What, you're telling me the cop doesn't know where anything in this part of the city is?"

"Yes, I am. Just shut it and give me directions, would you?"

"Jeez," he heard the drug-dealing teen mutter. Tom gave him a hard look, yellow spinning in his dark eyes, and the beta instantly rattled off an address. Then the officer turned his attention back to Allison. "How'd you get to the club—you were at the club, right?"

"Yes. I-I have a car, a blue VW Bug."

"Okay. Just take it easy," Tom soothed. He ignored the withering look that John shot him over Allison's shoulder and kept walking. Before long they were in Allison's Bug and on their way to the hospital, parking in front of the ER.

"Wait here," Hanson ordered Bryant. At the teen's incredulous look, he gave the beta a hard stare that meant, I'm in charge here, so don't pull any 'wolf stuff. Then he was ushering Allison into the ER, which, for once, wasn't very busy. As such, Tom marched right up to the desk and flashed his badge. "Officer Tom Hanson. I have a girl here who's a rape victim." His manner had become cool, professional, and while Tom was almost always professional, detached wasn't something he often came across as.

"Okay. We'll take it from here."

Hanson stayed until a doctor came out to see Allison before he left to join his beta out in the VW, but not before he passed on what he knew to the doc.

John was leaning against the passenger side of the little blue Bug. Before Hanson could protest, the blonde teen said, "It was warm in there; cut me a break. Besides, all the radio stations had gone to commercial."

Tom rolled his eyes, but he couldn't help giving a good-natured head shake and smiling a little. "Figures. I hate when that happens. Now, is that the only reason you dragged me out here, or can I go home?"

"Sure. We can walk home, you know. Of course, there _is_ another way . . ."

"No! No more shifting unless absolutely necessary!"

"What if you lose control?" John's green eyes were suddenly hard.

"How so?"

"Your emotions. Whenever you're angry, scared"—laughter danced in those emerald-colored eyes—"in lust, the predator instinct of your werewolf will start to take over, meaning fangs, claws, a glint of yellow in our eyes—I lied about the eyes not changing, but we don't see it unless we're looking in a mirror and the glow is only at the start of the change or when the 'wolf is close to the surface—or even a full shift. By the way, what's going on with you and Judy?" John shoved off the Volkswagen Beetle and started walking. Tom fell into step beside him.

"Nothing's going on between me and Judy, and how is it any of your business?"

"Dude, her scent was _all_ over you when you came down. What were you— No, don't answer that. I have a pretty good idea already." John pulled a face.

"You know, I'm starting to remember why I found you so annoying."

"Thanks."

"It wasn't a compliment."

"I know."

Tom suddenly growled with anger and vented his feelings by kicking at a crumpled soda can left on the street. "I hate this! Don't start in on me about the bite being a gift, because it's not."

"I can see why you feel that way—," John began.

Hanson glared at him. "Isn't there any way to turn me back?"

The beta's eyes met his steadily. "No, there's not. I'm sorry. Besides, you're pack now." He paused. "Do you have enough to arrest Mason?"

"I can't talk about an ongoing investigation, but do you really think he killed Ashley Myers?"

"Yeah, I do. He's worried both me and Jackson for a while now. He's too hot-headed and he goes into 'wolf mode at the first sign of danger. There's no way he'd make it as an alpha, or even an omega. Now that I think about it, I don't think you're an omega at all. You remind me of a dominant beta, or maybe an alpha with a pack of your own."

"Seriously?" John nodded. Tom smiled slightly and elbowed the beta playfully in the ribs. "So, does Mason have a fetish for girls that have names beginning with A? First Ashley, now Allison . . ."

The teenage werewolf shrugged. "Search me. And I don't mean it literally." He slid Tom a reproachful look.

"I wasn't going to. Look, can I go home? I'm tired, man, and with all these late nights, we're becoming vampires."

Bryant grinned. "Yeah, you can go back to your girl." The grin faded. "And don't mention vampires. I'm sick of the ones that can shape-shift being mistaken for us lupines."

"Hang on. Vamps are real?"

"Unfortunately, I think so. Bigfoot's a myth, if that makes you feel any better."

"It doesn't. Well, see you at school." Tom took off at a jog, not bothering to wait for John's reply. When he turned the corner and realized he still had a long way to go, he sighed, looked around carefully, and shifted. As soon as he was on all fours, he took off. He told himself that John was right: it was quicker to run on four paws than on two legs. Within minutes he was scaling the wall to his apartment—in human form—and slipping in through his bedroom window. Thankful that Judy was still asleep, he finally closed his eyes and joined her in dreamland.

 

"Tom," a low, female voice said. Someone shook his shoulder. "Hey, Tom, wake up."

Slowly he blinked open his eyes and lifted his head up from the pillow. "What's going on?" he asked, his words slurred and voice thick with sleep.

Judy looked at him quizzically. "We have to go to work, remember?"

 _Work? Oh, right._ A dim light bulb went off in the lupine's head as he remembered the events of last night. The memory of Allison's terror made his 'wolf lick its chops, and, horrified, Tom sat upright abruptly, throwing back the sheets. "I have a new lead on our case," he said as he went through the chest of drawers and snatched up the first clothes he laid fingers on.

"What is it?" Judy asked, her eyes following his every movement as he pulled on a white Sons of Anarchy T-shirt.

"I'll tell you at the Chapel. Jenko needs to hear it, too. All I'm saying is: I don't think we need Folan's confession for the murder of Ashley Myers, although it would be nice."

Hoffs' brows furrowed. "What are you talking about?"

Tom forced himself to meet her eyes. "We had a visitor last night, Jude. That's all I'm saying. I'll fill you in along with Jenko." He hated holding out on her, but it was better that she and Jenk hear this together.

For a few moments, she didn't say anything. Then Tom's sensitive ears picked up an, "Okay. Let's go, then." Judy was already heading out of his room, then the door. Hanson grabbed the keys to the Mustang and hurried after her.

 

The ride to Jump Street Chapel, located on the corner of Jump Street and 6th, was a tense one. Whenever Hanson tried to apologize, Judy would either turn up the radio or change it to a different station, and Tom couldn't help chanting under his breath, "Please don't play any Whitesnake. Please don't play any Whitesnake."

"Why Whitesnake?" Hoffs asked, finally breaking the silent treatment.

"I don't like 'em."

"Well, too bad," she said, smirking.

Of course, they just _had_ to be playing a Whitesnake song right now. Tom groaned as he heard the opening guitar riff to the band's latest single, "Still of the Night."

_In the still of the night  
I hear the wolf howl, honey  
Sniffing 'round your door  
In the still of the night  
I feel my heart beating heavy  
Telling me I gotta have more_

_In the shadow of the night  
I see the full moon rise  
Telling me what's in store  
My heart starts aching  
My body starts shaking  
And I can't take no more_

_No, no_

_Now I just wanna get close to you  
And taste your love so sweet  
And I just wanna make love to you  
Feel your body heat . . . _

"Change it!" Hanson snapped. "Now!"

"Okay, okay," Hoffs grumbled, but Tom was pretty sure she was smiling. She changed stations and settled back. "Happy now?"

Hanson started to say "Yes" but clamped his mouth shut when he realized the new song was "Animal" by Def Leppard—and he'd heard this song the other day. Geez, did the radio stations have it in for him or something?

Then the lyrics started.

_A wild ride over stony ground  
Such a lust for life, the circus comes to town  
We are the hungry ones on the lightning raid  
Just like a river runs, like a fire needs flame  
Oh, I burn for you_

_I gotta feel it in my blood, whoa oh  
I need your touch don't need your love, whoa oh  
And I want, and I need, and I lust, animal  
And I want, and I need, and I lust, animal_

Instantly Tom's hand grabbed for the dial, but Judy's hand shot out and prevented his from reaching the dial. At his questioning glance, she said, "Nuh-uh. I like this song."

Tom just gave a long sigh and resigned himself to listening to the British hard rock group.

_I cry wolf, given mouth to mouth  
Like a moving heartbeat in the witching hour  
I'm running with the wind, a shadow in the dust  
And like the driving rain, hey, like the restless rust  
I never sleep_

_I gotta feel it in my blood, whoa oh  
I need your touch don't need your love, whoa oh  
And I want, and I need, and I lust, animal  
And I want, and I need, and I lust, animal_

_Huh! Oh cry wolf baby, cry tough  
Gonna hunt you like an, uh uh, animal  
Gonna take your love 'n' run_

"You gotta be kidding me," Hanson complained, mentally banging his head against the steering wheel. "I swear someone up there has it in for me."

"Oh yeah," Hoffs said sarcastically, "what with you being bitten and all."

A low growl rumbled in his throat, and, glancing over, Tom saw she was grinning, her shoulders shaking with laughter. He snarled, "It's _not_ funny."

"You just keep telling yourself that, Hanson."

_I gotta feel it in my blood, whoa oh  
I need your touch don't need your love, whoa oh  
And I want, and I need, and I lust, animal  
And I want, and I need, and I lust, animal_

_And I want  
(And I want)  
And I need  
(And I need)  
And I lust  
(And I lust)  
Animal  
(Animal)_

_And I want  
(Take me)  
And I need  
(Tame me)  
And I lust  
(Make me)  
Animal  
(Your animal)_

_And I want  
(Show me)  
And I need  
(Stroke me)  
And I lust  
(Let me be your)  
Animal  
(Animal)_

_And I want  
(I want)  
And I need  
(Ooh, ooh, ooh)  
And I lust  
(Animal)  
Animal_

"We're almost there, Hanson," Hoffs said, snapping him back to the present. Vaguely he was aware that a Guns 'N' Roses song had come on, maybe "Sweet Child O' Mine", but Tom didn't really pay it any attention. Before long he had pulled into his regular parking spot at the chapel.

For a few moments they just sat there, Tom nervously staring up at the side door, until he let out a loud sigh.

"Well, let's go talk to Jenko."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so excited that _finally_ we're getting somewhere with the case! Sorry if the scene with the girl isn't exactly procedure, but I haven't been watching _SVU_ lately, and who knows if even _that_ is correct.
> 
> Personally, I agree with Hanson: I'm also starting to remember why John is so annoying. :)


	28. Chapter 28

Captain Jenko was sitting Indian-style on the table the team used for meetings playing his guitar when Tom and Judy walked in. Hanson almost facepalmed when he recognized the song as "I Love Rock 'N' Roll" by Joan Jett and the Blackhearts. He thought, _Oh_ now _he starts playing rock music from this decade. Go figure._

Jenk finished the song and moved on to another one. This time, Tom had to hold in an irritated snarl. He muttered, "Please tell me he's not playing 'Love Bites'."

"The Def Leppard song? Yeah, I think he is."

"Oh, great."

Their captain finally noticed them and set aside his guitar. "So, I take it you talked to Doug and Harry yesterday, Tom."

Hanson nervously rubbed the back of his neck. "Uh, what makes you say that?"

"They came in earlier and have been avoiding you like the plague. Or so I gather, seeing as they haven't come down yet."

"I might have scared Doug a little," Tom admitted, "but nothing too serious. Besides, I have something to tell you." He filled both of them in on John's nighttime visit, leaving out the conversation they'd had involving werewolves and the bit about his relationship with Judy. When he finished, Jenko said, "You're _sure_ he raped her?"

"Yes. His scent was all over her. Besides, he's pack, for whatever that's worth. I'd know him by smell anywhere."

Jenko sighed. "Well, you two better go pick him up. And, guys make sure it's a clean bust."

Tom grinned roguishly. "Captain, do we ever make any other kind?"

Judy scoffed. "Hah! Remember your first night of training, Hanson? We drove up to find you trying to cowboy the deal and had to pull Penhall out."

"I caught Waxer later that week," Hanson pointed out, his pride slightly injured.

She tilted her head to the side and studied him through large, doe-like eyes. "Well, yeah, but jeez, we seriously thought we were going to have to have you infiltrate the student council when you first arrived. As I recall, Doug said you looked like Richie Cunningham and Jenk here kept comparing you to JFK."

Tom sighed. "Can we get back to business here?"

"Sure," Jenko said. "Just stop calling me Captain. Now, I want both of you to pick up John, because this Folan kid is going to want to shut him up. Then go after Mason. The rest of us will be providing backup."

"Got it, Coach," Hanson said. He snagged an apple off the table and bit into it. It was delicious, even if his 'wolf instincts were crying out for meat.

"Well, what are you still doing here? Get to school, both of you." Jenko's hands were reaching for his guitar as he spoke. As Tom and Judy turned and walked out, Hanson could have sworn the chords to "Rock You Like a Hurricane" were coming from the instrument. He sighed, shook his head good-naturedly, and kept on walking.

When they were inside the Mustang, Judy switched on the radio, and Hanson did some mental headbanging when he realized the song was Def Leppard's "Die Hard the Hunter." This time, however, the chorus caught his attention and held it:

_(Die hard) You're caught in a trap  
(Hunter) There's no looking back  
(Die hard) He's lost in the crowd  
(Hunter) Die hard and proud_

_Die hard the hunter  
Die hard the hunter  
You better watch out  
Die hard the hunter  
Die hard the hunter_

_Back in the city he's a man on the loose  
He is the shadow that's been following you  
He takes no prisoners when he's hunting for game  
He's got a bullet and it carries your name  
You can't do that, can't do it, can't do that, oh no no . . ._

Then it was back to the chorus after a long instrumental break, and when "Die Hard the Hunter" was over, the two cops could hear the intro to "Gods of War." By now, Tom was sure the radio stations were in on a conspiracy. Either that or they were just playing Def Leppard a lot. Besides, he kind of liked this song, so he decided to just let it play.

_Feelin' like it's all over  
Feelin' like there's no love  
Feelin' like it's not easy  
Breathin' life in the dust_

_On a countdown to zero  
Take a ride on the nightmare machine  
There ain't gonna be heroes  
There ain't gonna be anything_

_Here it comes here comes the night  
Here it comes hell in the night  
Here it comes here comes the night  
(When we all fall down)_

_When we walk into silence  
When we shadow the sun  
When we surrender to violence  
Then the damage is done  
(Put away that gun)_

_I don't wanna be there  
I don't wanna be anywhere_

_Here it comes, here comes the night  
Here it comes, hell in the night  
Here it comes, here comes the night  
That's right_

_We're fighting for the gods of war  
But what the hell we fightin' for  
Yeah fightin' with the gods of war_

_But I'm a rebel  
And I ain't gonna fight no more  
No way!_

_On a countdown to zero  
Take a ride on the nightmare machine  
There ain't gonna be heroes  
There ain't gonna be anything_

_Here it comes, here comes the night  
Here it comes, hell in the night  
Here it comes, here comes the night  
Don't you know that's right!_

_We're fightin' for the gods of war  
But what the hell we fightin' for  
Yeah fightin' with the gods of war  
And I ain't gonna fight no more  
Stop fightin' for the gods of war  
Yeah what in the hell we fightin' for  
We're fightin' for the gods of war  
Heavy!_

Meanwhile, in the boys' locker room at Central at the exact moment "Gods of War" was playing in Hanson's Mustang, John was cautiously making sure it was empty before heading toward the dark showers in the back. He'd received a message from Mason, telling him to meet there before school, but when he called out, no one answered. He continued on anyway. When he stepped into the darkened showering area, he thought he saw a flash of yellow. The sound of claws scraping against the tile soon followed, and Mason appeared in his human form, although his features were wolfish. He bared fangs; before John could ask what was going on, the beta's vision faded and everything went black.

* * *

Tom and Judy pulled into the lot, parked, and sprinted up the steps to the front doors of the high school. The newblood 'wolf paused when he saw a kid who looked vaguely familiar. He grabbed the boy's arm and said, "Hey, you're in my Trig class, right?"

"Yeah. Hey, nice job, man. You made Orton look like a goon." The kid was referring to an incident several days before.

"Thanks. Listen, do you know a kid named Bryant, John Bryant?"

"No. Sorry." The boy kept on walking toward his locker, leaving Tom standing next to Judy. She commented, "That went well."

Hanson sighed. "Let's split up. I'll check down by the gym; you take near the auditorium."

"Okay." Judy was already splitting away, but not before she gave his hand a quick squeeze. Then she was gone from Tom's line of vision, although he was already running toward the athletic hallway. This was beginning to feel too much like his first case, and he'd had the same bad feeling before he found Kenny passed out on the shower floor in the boys' locker room. Hanson was determined that this case wouldn't be a repeat of his very first one; he stretched out with his senses, including his sixth one. It was leading him straight to the small gym, and behind that was one entrance to the locker room.

When he opened the door, the faint trickle of running water was the first thing he heard. Dreading what he might find, Tom forced his suddenly-molten legs to carry him toward the showers near the back of the room. His nose caught the sharp, salty tang of blood and, forgetting caution, he hurried forward, John's name tearing itself from his throat.

The teen 'wolf was lying on the tiled floor curled up in the fetal position, a showerhead sprinkling down water on his limp form. Tom could see the reddish tint against the white tile as the clear liquid ran over bloody wounds and raced for the drain. Instantly he turned off the water and knelt beside John, feeling the beta's neck for a pulse. It was there, but it barely beat beneath his fingertips.

Tom rose and dashed for the nearby phone. He punched in a number and ordered, "Get the paramedics to the boys' locker room." Pause. "Who cares who this is? Get the paramedics here or somebody dies!" Hanson slammed the phone back in its holder and dashed back to the teen's side. There was no way he was going to let Mason hurt the beta again—and he was _not_ going to give Folan any opportunity to bite Hoffs, not while he was breathing.

It seemed like forever, but finally the paramedics arrived. Tom watched, along with the rest of the curious student body, as John was loaded into an ambulance. He felt a pressure on his left hand and turned to see Judy standing beside him. She asked quietly, "Now what do we do?"

"I'll ride with him, or try to. You can meet us at the hospital."

Judy nodded, gave his hand another squeeze, and slipped back into the crowd. Hanson managed to slip inside the ambulance just before the doors closed. He hadn't dared break his cover again, and he had no idea of knowing how many of the students thought he was really a cop after witnessing him arresting John last week.

One of the EMTs tried to stop him, but Tom flashed his badge—and maybe more than a little fang—and the paramedic quieted down. The rest of the ride to the hospital was made in silence; Hanson never took his eyes off his beta.

* * *

Judy was waiting for him in the lobby outside the ER. She asked, "How is he?"

"I don't know." Tom raked a frustrated hand through his dark brown hair. "The doctor won't let me see him. They're treating him now."

"But with your healing abilities—"

"Wounds from another lupine take longer to heal, remember?" He paced, a low growl in his throat. "I hate this! I should've known Mason would go after him sooner."

"Hanson, we had no way of knowing when he would hurt Bryant."

"He must have figured out that we're really cops and were after him," Hanson continued, thoroughly ignoring Judy. He stopped pacing when she gripped his arm tightly above the elbow and leaned in close. She hissed, "Cool it, Tom! Your eyes . . . If anyone sees you—"

Already her touch, her scent, was soothing the beast. The gold spark in his eyes faded, and he took a deep breath. "Sorry, Jude. So, did you call Jenk?"

"Yeah. He wants us to stay until John's stable and see if we can find anything about his attacker."

"That shouldn't be too hard," Tom muttered.

"You didn't smell anything, did you?"

"No, the shower was running. It washed away any scents that would be helpful."

"Well, that's just great," Judy said sarcastically.

"Yeah, no kidding."

Hanson noticed she was fidgeting uneasily. He started to ask her what was bothering her when she said, "Hanson, don't take this the wrong way, but John's a drug dealer. If someone does drugs, they're going to die. Maybe not right away, but they're going to die."

He snarled angrily. "He was a dealer, not a user. You know as well as I do that the dealers remain clean. Besides, those lacerations weren't made by a needle. No way."

"Okay." Judy backed off, her hands held up in the universal calm-down gesture.

Tom turned away and slammed his eyes shut, trying to calm down again. He could feel the 'wolf shadow pricking at the back of his mind, but he couldn't give in to his animalistic nature in the lobby of the emergency room. When meditating didn't work, he just turned back to Judy and leaned into her. Her familiar, comforting scent wreathed around him, and, almost absentmindedly, the fingers on his right hand began toying with her chestnut-brown curls. Right then he needed the calming effect of the anchor. _How does that one line in "Animal" go?_ Tom thought. _Oh, yeah, "I need your touch don't need your love, whoa oh . . ." Wow, so much for not listening to Def Leppard. They're not even one of my favorite bands! Now, where was I?_

"Are you calm now?" Judy's voice broke into his rambling thoughts.

"Yeah," he managed, mouth strangely dry.

"Great, because I think the doctor's back."

Hanson swung his head in the direction of the door that led back to the patients' rooms. Sure enough, a middle-aged man in scrubs and a white lab coat was standing there, motioning for the two cops to join him.

"How is he?" were the first words out of Tom's mouth.

"He's resting," the doctor answered. A puzzled look crossed his face. "We wanted to put him into surgery but he refused. He said all he needed was a painkiller." His questioning eyes were locked on Tom, but when neither cop was forthcoming with an answer, he continued, "He should be fine in a few days."

Tom mentally translated that to a couple hours. The werewolf asked, "Can we see him?"

"I suppose," the doctor said reluctantly. "Follow me." He turned on his heel and walked back through the door. Tom and Judy were close behind as they were led through the maze of rooms, so close that they bumped into the doctor when he stopped without warning. John's doctor said, "I'll leave you alone for now," before he continued on to other cases.

Bryant's eyes had been closed, but when he heard Tom and Judy come in (or smelled them, more likely) they opened. "Hey," he said with a weak attempt at a grin. "Could one of you guys tell the doctor that I'll be fine in thirty minutes or so?"

"He'll never believe us," Tom said, "and even if he did, I'm not going to be the one to reveal that werewolves exist and two of them are in this hospital right now."

"He's going to be mystified at how I made such a speedy recovery," John pointed out. "Besides, we're almost never in the hospital thanks to our healing abilities."

"Well, we'll leave it up to you," Judy said. "Did Mason attack you?"

The blonde 'wolf curled his upper lip in a sneer. "No warning at all. Guess our alpha's training sessions are good for something."

Hanson felt a flash of irritation. "Look, just because you're the one who turned me 'wolf doesn't mean I have to save your tail. Maybe I don't even want to, but _I want Folan's_."

"So do I," Bryant muttered. His green eyes had a sly look as they slid over to Judy. "And you don't want him giving her the bite, do you? Makes sense, since she's your—"

He was cut off as Tom slapped his hand over his mouth. Hanson leaned in close and hissed softly, "If you say 'mate', I'll finish what Mason started. And I'm not picky about where I'm sticking my claws."

Bryant nodded swiftly, and Hanson removed his hand.

"So," Hoffs spoke up, "where can we find Folan at night?"

"There's an abandoned warehouse by the tracks outside of town. Not Hotel California," he added when the undercover cops exchanged glances. "The street name is Nightshade."

"As in the plant?" Judy asked.

"Yeah. Belladonna is one of the plants used to turn a silverblood—a resister. Sometimes just giving the bite doesn't work, so they're worked over with dressings and potions until the moon is full again. Anyway, Mason will probably be at Nightshade tonight. If not, he'll be hanging around Central." John lowered his head back onto the pillow. "Hope that helps." His green eyes started to close, but Tom had one more question. He gripped the beta's shoulder roughly to jar the teen awake and asked, "Why do you think Mason put those drugs in your locker?"

"To set me up. What else?"

"How'd he get the drugs?"

John's eyes clouded in thought, then cleared. He swore violently. "That mutt! He's been trying to take over my business!" He shot Tom a hungry look. "If, for some reason, you can't arrest him tonight, can I take a shot at him?"

"No," Judy and Tom said in unison.

"There goes that idea," John muttered.

Both cops rose as Hanson said, "We'll see you later."

John didn't answer. When Tom glanced back from the doorway, he saw the reason why: The teen 'wolf had passed out. A small smile twitched at his mouth before he slipped out into the hallway with Judy. As they walked along, he said, "Let's go check in with Jenk. I have an idea everyone should hear."

"So we're finally including Doug and Harry, huh?"

"Oh, yeah."

"They're going to be happy about that."

"No kidding."

Judy laughed softly at that, and the next thing Tom knew, he was in his Mustang and driving to the Chapel.

* * *

Night had fallen and Jenko's yellow van was in Central's parking lot, hidden in the shadows. The team was making the final touches on the plan and wiring up Tom and Judy. Doug would be providing backup, and Harry and the captain would be in the van, listening in. If needed, they would also come to the aid of Hanson and Hoffs if there was trouble. Tom wasn't sure what good it would do if the trouble was of the 'wolf variety, since none of the bullets in their guns were wolfsbane, but hopefully there wouldn't be any.

"Okay, let's roll," Jenko said at last. "Go get him, guys."

The werewolf and his partner hopped out of the van and stole across the deserted parking lot. It was only a simple matter of picking the lock and then they were inside the school, their footsteps echoing loudly through the empty hallways. Curiously enough, the main office door was unlocked—maybe the nighttime janitorial staff had forgotten to lock up. Even with his night vision, Tom was having a hard time finding his way around: He and Judy had almost never landed themselves in detention and rarely visited the office anyway.

"Where's the intercom system?" he muttered, sweeping his hands around the main desk. By now his eyes had adjusted enough that he could see clearly in the dark room.

"Over here," Judy hissed from the principal's office.

Tom joined her and fidgeted nervously as he looked down at the device. "Suddenly I'm not so sure about this."

"It was your idea," Judy reminded him, "so don't back out now. Just call him."

In the next two seconds, horrible yowling echoed throughout the building.

"You've gotta be kidding me," Jenko remarked from the van. Beside him, Harry snickered into his hands, an amused smile dancing on his lips. Ioki gasped out, "Oh man, I love this job. I don't suppose we can keep this, do you?"

Jenko sent him a shut-up look, and Harry fell silent, his body still shaking with laughter.

Back in the office, Judy slapped her hand over Tom's mouth, mercifully shutting off the dreadful yowls. She said, "Okay, so don't be teen 'wolf. Be _the_ 'wolf."

This time, Tom drew on the 'wolf inside. His eyes flared amber and the sound he emitted was a low howl, more like that of a real wolf. When he let the sound die away, he could hear an answering howl, but it was faint, as if the replying 'wolf was far away.

"Whoa," Harry, Jenko, and Doug said in unison from their places outside the school.

Inside the office, Tom glanced at Judy and said, "He's coming. It won't take that long given how fast we are in lupine form—or in human shape if we call on our 'wolf speed." Briefly he wondered why he was so comfortable counting himself among the werewolves' number when he was talking about it when in reality there were times he wished he'd never been bitten. At other times, he wondered how he'd stood being a regular human for so long when he now had all this power.

The light touch of Judy's fingertips on the back of his neck broke his thought process. An involuntary shiver ran though him, and suddenly Hanson wanted nothing more than to melt into Judy, to take her and mark her as his. The surge of desire scared him, and he had no idea if it was coming from him or his wolf. Besides, under the circumstances, it was totally inappropriate.

"Can you sense him?" Judy asked softly.

He shook his head. "I don't know. I never learned how to sense another lycanthrope, or even if we can."

"Try."

Tom closed his eyes, but less than five minutes had passed before he heard a low growl. His eyes flew open. "He's here."

"I think we figured that part out, Hanson," Jenko said over the wire. "Now get your carcasses out here, because I'm pretty sure he's spotted us."

Hanson swore under his breath. "Okay, we're coming out." Somehow his hand found Judy's as they sprinted through the commons area, turned right into the hallway, and took a left again out the doors near the music department. They burst out into the student parking lot, and the scene before them made Tom's blood run cold.

Mason, still in human form, was creeping up on Doug from behind. Even though the teen was halfway across the parking lot, Tom caught the glint of fangs and claws_and the yellow spinning in the blue eyes. Abruptly he changed direction and sprinted toward Penhall. He yelled, "Doug, watch out!"

Dough whipped around in time to see the seventeen-year-old werewolf only a few feet away, fangs bared and claws at the ready. Penhall swore and dove to the side just as Mason lunged, claws extended. Tom was already a few yards away, shrugging out of his clothes, and he shifted in mid-stride. He shot between Doug and Mason and snarled a warning at their suspect. The message was clear: _Don't even think about running or shifting._ Hanson even sent the order to the teenager, who glanced around to see Jenko, Harry, and Judy closing in. He looked like he was seriously thinking about bolting, and Tom knew they couldn't risk it. The dark brown 'wolf's muscles bunched as he leapt, knocking Mason flat on his back. Hanson glared down at the other lupine through narrowed eyes and snapped his jaws close to Mason's ear. His paws were planted on each side of the boy's rangy frame, hackles raised and tail bushed out. A steady growl rumbled in his chest.

"Okay, Hanson, that's enough," he heard Jenko say. "We've got him. Roll over onto your back," the Jump Street captain ordered Mason. The teen did as directed, and Hoffs snapped handcuffs on his wrists. She was already reading him his rights as Tom stepped back. Together, Judy and Harry hauled the kid to his feet and ushered him over to Jenko's van (and the waiting black-and-whites).

Jenko himself placed a hand on Doug's shoulder and asked, "You okay, Penhall?"

"Yeah," Doug managed. Tom could feel his best friend's gaze scorching his fur. "Hanson made sure of that."

The hang-on hippie couched in front of the lupine. "Nice job, Tom. Can you change back?"

Before he could stop himself, Tom was wagging his tail. His tongue darted out and licked the captain's hand. Then the 'wolf had vanished, leaving the human in its place. Tom grumbled, "Will people stop asking me if I can go back and forth between forms?"

Doug, it seemed, had already recovered, since he slapped Tom on the back and crowed, "That was SO COOL!"

"Doug—," Tom began.

Penhall didn't seem to have heard him. "Next time I say you are totally _beast_ —"

"Doug, shut up." Hanson added a tiny growl, just to make his point clear. Instantly Penhall fell silent, but he was grinning like the Cheshire cat. The stocky officer waved a hand in Tom's general direction and said, "Uh, where are your clothes?"

Mortified, Tom glanced down only to see (with relief) that he had some clothes on. He frowned and slammed his fist into Doug's shoulder.

"Ow! Geez, what was that for?"

"Don't ever scare me like that again."

A familiar, musky scent filled his nose, and the turned to see Judy holding up his shirt, jeans, and the remains of his shoes. "You looking for these?" she asked. Without waiting for a reply, she handed Tom his clothes, and they all politely turned their backs as he dressed (even though Judy had seen his naked body several times already). Fully dressed, he cleared his throat. The others turned back. Hanson said, "Please tell me we have him on something good. Our plan didn't even go the way we'd, uh, planned."

"Relax, Hanson," Jenko reassured him. "We've got him. It was an unorthodox approach, sure, but . . ." His voice trailed away and he shrugged. "Anyway, let's go home. Is anyone else thinking pizza?"

His team stared at him incredulously. Jenko cracked a smile and said, "Just kidding."

Tom could have heard Doug and Harry's sighs of relief from a quarter-mile away. Then Doug, Harry, and Jenko were walking toward the van . . . and Judy was still standing a couple feet away. She hugged him—hard—and kissed his cheek. He heard her mutter, "I'm glad that's over."

"Me too," Hanson said softly, his arms automatically coming around her back and drawing her closer. He didn't care if anyone was watching at the moment, or what their teammates would think. All he cared about was that she was safe—and she wasn't lupine.

"Hey, you two!" Jenko called. "Break it up!"

Tom and Judy instantly sprang apart and looked in their captain's direction (all three of them were leaning against the van). The hang-on hippie's face gave nothing away, but Harry had a cat-swallowed-the-canary expression and Doug looked resigned, like, "So be it." Harry's was more like, "Well, it's about time!"

Go figure, Tom thought. Still, the lycan and his partner joined the rest of the team—their small family . . . his _pack._


	29. Epilogue

Two hours later, the gang was hanging out in the chapel. Penhall was removing his gun and shoulder holster to store in his locker—and complaining up a storm. "I've always known Hanson was lucky, but this is ridiculous! I mean he's been here for a few months and ended up being bitten by a kid who happens to be a werewolf and he survived! On top of that, he's brought down a major 'wolf dealer and a homicidal lupine. He's going to end up with a gold star on his report card—again! Are we going to let him get away with that?" Doug slammed his locker door shut and slid down the pole. He landed—and saw Tom standing there with Hoffs and Ioki. "Oh."

Hanson said, "Funny, I thought you were scared of me, Doug." He smirked, and Penhall could have sworn Tom's canines were a little sharper than normal. Doug shrugged it off and replied, "As long as you don't go homicidal on us during the full moon, Hanson."

The smirk on Tom's face faded and his expression grew moody. "Don't mention the full moon. John said it doesn't affect us, but right now I'm not sure if he was telling the truth or not."'

"How is our friendly 'wolf dealer doing anyway?" Harry asked.

"He's all healed," Tom said. "I don't think he was happy that I left the pack, but I'm pretty sure he understands why." He shuddered. "I'm just glad this case is over; I don't want to run into that pack again."

Judy had been silently leaning against her desk, but now she strode over to Hanson and rested her chin on his shoulder: "I wonder how many more people in this city are actually werewolves."

Harry's queasy expression mirrored exactly how Doug felt. Personally, having just one werewolf around was enough for him, even if that 'wolf was his best friend. Penhall muttered, "I don't want to find out."

"Well, good night, guys." On that cheerful note, Judy walked out, giving Tom's cheek a light tap with her index finger as she passed him. "See you later."

Doug couldn't help noticing the way Hanson's chocolate-brown eyes darkened and, not for the first time, he wondered when the nature of the relationship between those two had changed. Then Judy was gone, and the three guys were left standing in the middle of the chapel. Doug's eyes found Tom's and their gazes locked.

"Well," said Harry, obviously sensing the awkward tension, "I'd better be heading home, too. See you tomorrow." Ioki left, and neither Hanson nor Penhall broke the silence until they were sure he was gone.

Doug said, mimicking a popular show, "Hanson, you got some 'splainin' to do."

Tom rolled his eyes. "Didn't we go over this already? I'm not giving you the bite either, so don't eve think about it."

"Don't worry, man. You sure changed my mind about that. Besides, I'm not talking about the werewolf stuff."

Tom blinked in surprise. "So what _are_ you talking about?"

"Judy, man! When exactly did you two become all buddy-buddy?"

Hanson's eyes turned cold, and this time Doug definitely saw gold spinning though those dark orbs. The lupine said stiffly, "What's it to you?" Tom felt the 'wolf shadow pricking at the back of his mind for the second time that night, itching for control, but he forced it down. He refused to rely on that side of himself to solve all his problems.

Doug shifted his weight from one leg to the other, suddenly uneasy. Tom could smell it on him, and saliva pooled in his mouth. Sick with himself he glanced away, trying hard to overcome the beast that was now snarling, clawing for supremacy. If any other male laid a hand on Judy . . . Shocked at the animalistic way he was thinking—and suddenly realizing the source of Doug's discomfort—he let the hard look in his eyes fade as he said quietly, "You're sweet on Judy, aren't you?"

He could hear Doug's heartbeat quicken. "What gave you that idea?"

"I can hear your heartbeat, smell your uneasiness. Mostly, I've just noticed the odd looks you've been giving us."

"I was just wondering exactly _when_ the two of you started sleeping together."

"That's not any of your business!" Tom snapped. A growl rose in his throat, but he forced it down. "If you're thinking she's into me just because I'm lupine—"

"I didn't say that!" Doug protested.

Tom's eyes were as cold as ice. "You didn't have to." Before Doug could say anything more, Tom turned his back on his friend and walked out of the chapel down to the small parking lot. Once he was in his '68 Mustang, he pulled out and began driving on autopilot to a very familiar apartment. He'd turned on the radio, and noticed it was halfway through the love theme from _Footloose_. It had never been one of his favorite movies, but the music was good.

The next thing he knew, he was standing in front of Judy's apartment door, one fist rapping hard on the wood. It opened and there she was, clearly still awake. "Yes, Hanson?"

He swallowed, voice husky when he asked, "Can I come in?"

She smiled and opened the door further. It had barely shut before his arms were around her, her mouth on his, everything about her filling his senses. And somewhere in the back of his mind, he could hear the lyrics to a song he'd just heard: _And in your arms salvation's not so far away. It's getting closer, closer every day . . ._ As long as he had her, everything would be okay. It had to be.


End file.
